The Better Sword
by Psyste
Summary: What if... Arthur Dayne was the sole survivor at the Tower of Joy? How would things be different for Jon and many other characters. Story set at start of AGOT book Assumes R L J
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer – if you recognise it then it belongs to GRRM

Prologue

The pain was excruciating, worse than she had ever expected. Not that she had paid much attention to her Septa when she was growing up as she whittled on and on about what a lady should expect to be, do and feel. Lyanna didn't like the idea of her innermost feelings being dictated for her – she was her own woman and she would feel whatever she actually did when and if it happened. Besides she was more than often distracted by watching Brandon sparring out the window with one of his friends or a visiting Lord.

She missed her big brother and wished he was here now. The pain of giving birth was nothing compared to the pain she felt in her soul when she heard of the death of Brandon. She had wept for days and even the love of her Dragon Prince could not end her suffering. It was only when she learned she was pregnant with Rhaegar's child that she managed to smile again. And now he was gone too, killed by Robert in the flowing waters of the Trident.

She felt such guilt at the lives that had been lost by this wild passion between her and Rhaegar. Even now men were fighting Gerold, Arthur and Oswell beneath her window, all because she and Rhaegar were unable to be apart and stick to their duties. It occurred to Lyanna that this pain was maybe her punishment from the Old Gods for her recklessness and the many deaths caused because of it.

She was trying to focus on the fighting outside the window to distract herself from the birth. She could hear that Gerold and his men were outnumbered by the voices but she was still confident in their abilities. She had grown close to the three kingsguard that had stayed here with her, especially Arthur with his warm smile and dry wit, and she hoped that they would all survive this fight with the men that Robert had sent to retrieve her. Lyanna knew Robert would kill her child in a heartbeat so she had to pray that her kingsguard survived.

The pain increased dramatically and Lyanna cried out in pain. The bed was now covered in blood and Lyanna felt dizzy. She knew that something wasn't right and surely there should not be this much agony in childbirth. She continued to push hard, gripping the sheets tightly in her hands and screaming in pain at the top of her voice. The child finally managed to be born, releasing a mighty cry of arrival, just as all the noise from below her window ended. Lyanna smiled with relief and lay back flat on the bed, too tired to lift herself to hold the baby. The pain had not subsided and coursed through her body in waves, from her fingers right down to her toes.

She heard footsteps coming up the stairs towards her chambers. In panic she tried to raise herself but the pain was too much. She tried to push the bedding over the baby with her feet but could only manage to cover its legs. The door swung open and there was Arthur. He held Dawn in his hand and the pale blade was coated with dark red blood. The white of his Kingsguard armour was also splattered with red blood, though none of it appeared to be his own. He scanned round the room quickly. "Lyanna are you alone?" he asked briskly.

She nodded tiredly. Seemingly satisfied with her response he moved to the bed. He saw the baby and smiled "You have a son Lyanna."

"Is he healthy?" she asked softly, her strength failing.

"I am no septa but he looks good to me." Arthur replied. He noticed the boy was still attached to his mother via the cord so he lightly cut it using Dawn before sheathing the blade. Next he removed his white cloak and blanketed the baby, picking it up so Lyanna could finally see her son. Despite the pain in her body she smiled brightly at the young boy. He had dark hair and grey eyes – the Stark colouring. He was amazing to her and she knew Rhaegar would have felt the same as well.

But she knew she was dying so she could not waste time, even if she wanted to more than anything in the world. "Listen Arthur I am not long for this world. You must take my son to Winterfell where Ned will care for him. He does not look like a Targaryen so he will be safe there."

Arthur looked pensive and finally replied "Lyanna, I'm sorry but your brother Ned is dead."

Lyanna was confused until Arthur motioned out the window with his head and it became clear to her.

"He was one of the men who came here today?!" She asked. She wanted to cry though no tears were left in her body.

Arthur replied with sadness in his voice. "Yes. He came with six others. Eventually there was only me and him left, then there was only me. He was good but I was the better sword today."

"You did not have to kill him Arthur, he would never have harmed me or the baby."

"Maybe he wouldn't but even he could not have stopped the Usurper who certainly would. Anyway I made a vow to Rhaegar."

Lyanna coughed which felt agonising in her body. The room started to darken. "Now you must make a vow to me Arthur. You must swear to protect my son and keep him safe for as long as you can. Promise me Arthur, promise me."

Arthur looked her directly in the eye. "I swear Lyanna."

She felt light as a feather and the pain was easing away. She began to close her eyes, for what she knew was to be the final time. "Jon," she spoke quietly with the last of her breath, "his name is Jon."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer – if you recognise it then it belongs to GRRM

Catelyn I

Catelyn stood overlooking the yard, watching as Robb and the other wards of Winterfell trained with her uncle Brynden. She never tired of watching her son gradually becoming a man. He had just passed his fifteen nameday, yet in appearance he could easily pass for a man in his twenties. He was muscular and toned with a shock of Tully red shoulder length hair and bright blue eyes. Her uncle Brynden, the master of arms at Winterfell, was teaching Robb how to fight with a greatsword, readying him for when he would wield Ice. Robb was very proficient with a longsword and Brynden had told Catelyn he was confident Robb would pick up the technique of a greatsword quickly. Catelyn listened as Brynden taught Robb about his foot movement and how the sword he currently used was heavier than Ice so he would have to compensate speed whilst he was learning.

The ancestral sword of House Stark had always fascinated Robb from when he first saw it as an infant. Even Catelyn acknowledged it was a magnificent blade. She often found Robb staring at it in it's case in the Winterfell library. When he had pleaded to hold it she had calmly denied him, telling him "When you are ready it will be yours." The only time it left it's case was when Benjen Stark, the Castellan of Winterfell, had to use it to dispense the kings justice to criminals and deserters from the Nights Watch.

Of course the sword had extra poignancy to Catelyn because it was found on the body of Eddard, her late husband. It had been delivered back to Winterfell by the men of King Robert, along with the bones of Eddard and his sister Lyanna.

Catelyn had very little memory left of her late husband, after all she had barely known him. She remembered that he was as nervous as her on their wedding day and he had been kind and gentle when he took her maidenhead. She often wondered if they would have been happy together had he lived but some things are not meant to be. She still prayed for his soul though when she was at prayer.

Brynden had been a blessing in those early years when she was a widow with a baby who was the Lord of Winterfell. She was alone in the North with only a grieving Benjen for company. He had accompanied her to live in her new home and he had acted as Lord Regent whilst Benjen got over losing his family and Catelyn came to terms with being alone, a mother and away from Riverrun, the only home she had ever known. Then when Benjen and her were ready he had graciously stepped aside and allowed Catelyn to be Lady Regent and Benjen to be the Castellen of Winterfell. Her first act was to appoint Brynden the master of arms as she still could not bear to see him leave.

Catelyn had never remarried. There had been many potential suitors with Lords from the North, Riverlands and the Vale visiting Winterfell. Her youth, position and enduring beauty meant she was highly sought after and she was showered with compliments and gifts. She had rejected them all with grace and kindness. Catelyn did not want to jeopardise Robb's place as heir of Winterfell so she remained a widow and would not consider a husband until Robb was a man grown with children of his own. Of course with Robb reaching fifteen, Lords had started to send their daughters to charm him. Catelyn knew she would have far more problems helping Robb find the right bride than she ever did rejecting potential husbands for herself.

"Robb is getting better and better with a greatsword."

The voice brought Catelyn out of her thoughts. She turned and was met by the kind smile of Benjen. He was two years younger than Catelyn but towered above her in height. He had grown to be an honourable and handsome man. He was a much more relaxed than Brandon, cheerier than Eddard and Catelyn had grown close with him over the years.

He was very close to Robb too and between Benjen, Brynden and Maester Luwin, Robb had never lacked for a father figure. Benjen had ensured Robb was actively involved in the tasks he would need to do as Lord of Winterfell, such as listening to disputes, planning harvests and hosting court. The only thing Catelyn had forbid Robb to see was when Benjen had to use Ice to perform the King's justice but she knew that would have to change soon whether she liked it or not.

She smiled back at Benjen and linked his arm as he joined her overlooking Robb and the others in the yard.

Benjen looked warmly at her "Brynden tells me he improves daily and he is one of the best swords in all Winterfell. You should be proud of your son."

Catelyn smiled. "I am Ben. He is going to be a great man and a worthy Lord of Winterfell, just like his ancestors."

"His father would be proud too." Benjen replied, looking warmly into Catelyn's eyes before turning back quickly to view the yard.

They both laughed as they watched Robb wrestling playfully with Domeric Bolton during a break from practice. After Robb's eighth nameday Catelyn had requested wards from houses in the North, Riverlands and the Vale to allow Robb to make friends with boys his own age as he had no siblings. Since then Domeric Bolton, Jasper Redfort, Perwyn Frey, Torrhen Karstark and Daryn Hornwood had all lived at Winterfell with each one now a close friend to Robb. Catelyn was fond of them all, especially Domeric who was a charming and friendly boy. This was all the more surprising considering his father was Roose Bolton, one of the Lords who courted Catelyn and man whom she did not trust. She found him a cold intimidating man with no joy in his soul. He had also tried to persuade Catelyn to allow his bastard son to become a ward of Winterfell along with Domeric, something she had outright refused.

Brynden came and join them overlooking the yard. He was dripping with sweat and he brushed his hair back with his hand, though it did little to tidy it up. He took a long drink of water then spoke to Benjen "Fancy joining us in the yard Ben? I'm sure Robb would love to spar with his uncle."

Benjen raised his eyebrows gamely at Brynden then turned to the yard and shouted "Is what Ser Brynden says the truth Nephew?! Do you wish to challenge me to a duel?!"

All the boys looked up to where they stood and Robb replied confidently "Yes it is true Uncle Benjen unless you are craven?!"

Everyone burst out laughing, including Benjen who quickly unsheathed his sword and ran off to the yard. Robb caught Catelyn's eye and shouted to her "Are you ready to watch me defeat this arrogant Northern upstart Mother?"

Catelyn beamed a smile of happiness back to her son and replied "Why are you fighting a mirror my son?!"

Everyone laughed again and Robb stuck his Tongue out mischievously at Catelyn before picking up his greatsword and turning to face the newly arrived Benjen. The others made a ring around them as they began to circle each other.

Catelyn turned to Brynden "Who will win?"

Brynden shrugged "To be honest it could be either of them. Robb is certainly a match for Benjen now. He is good with a blade."

"Good enough to beat you?" Catelyn asked

Brynden smiled wryly "Not that good."

Catelyn smiled and turned to watch the outcome of this contest. She was content and happy in the North, when for a long time she did not think that would be possible. She did need the love of a husband when she had Benjen, uncle Brynden and her Robb.

Life was good.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer – if you recognise it then it belongs to GRRM

Theon I

"Come on you stupid Ironborn fuck, keep up with the party and stop slowing us down."

Theon sighed. "Coming your Grace."

King Robert was drunker than usual and that meant Theon was an Iron Island traitor. Once he crossed a certain point in his drinking he would become hostile to Theon, just like when he first came to Kings Landing.

Theon was only a boy of ten and hadn't even taken his first salt wife when his father's rebellion was crushed by King Robert and he was brought to Kings Landing as a hostage. Those first few years were hard and he felt alone as he was treated with scorn and ridicule by most at court, led by King Robert himself. Many times he was dragged in front of everyone and humiliated. He was made to sing, dance and even grovel for the King, all for his "crime" of being Balon Greyjoy's son.

All it took was a chance meeting at Chataya's brothel for the King to warm to Theon. He realised that they had similar interests - drinking and whoring - and since then Theon had become one of his favourite drinking companions. However as soon as King Robert passed a level of drunkenness he would return to treating Theon like crap. And today at the hunt was certainly one of those days.

Theon had joined King Robert on the hunt along with Barristan Selmy, Renly Baratheon, Balon Swann, Thoros of Myr, Beric Dondarrion, Yohn Royce, Aron Santagar, Loras Tyrell and the Kings squire Lancel Lannister, whose sole responsibility seemed to be to keep the King full of wine. Theon had brought his bow and a quiver full of arrows but was yet to fire one off. The entire party just seemed to be following King Robert as he stomped around the Kingswood looking for something he could spear. No one else would dare kill anything until the King had made his first of the day.

Theon walked behind Renly and Loras who were deep in discussion. Theon smiled to himself. It was obvious to him they were lovers yet the women at court all swooned and fantasised about them both. However Theon, who was all man and certainly no queer, was not even given a second glance by the stuck up bitches. "These two soft excuses of men would be used as thralls back where I am from." he thought to himself whilst shaking his head.

He kept his distance whilst listening in to their conversation. They were talking about the current hot topic of Kings Landing and all Westeros, the death of the hand of the King, Jon Arryn.

"So he was definitely poisoned?" Loras enquired.

Renly nodded so Loras asked "Do we know who is responsible?"

This time Renly shook his head and spoke "No though there are plenty who could have done it. Any one of the Lannisters, that crazy wife of his or even Stannis who fled the capital the next day. Kings Landing is a snake pit."

"Has King Robert named a replacement yet?"

"My brother has been too busy drinking in his grief to even think about it. This whole hunt is just another distraction so he doesn't have to think about Jon's death. Robert did love him." Renly brushed a leaf out of Loras' blonde hair and smiled sweetly at the Knight of Flowers, who blushed back in return. Theon rolled his eyes.

"I could be you Renly. You could be hand."

"I must be a leading contender." Renly answered immodestly.

"There is also my father Mace, Tywin Lannister, Randyll Tarly and Yohn Royce who could be considered. Maybe even Stannis, though I can't see that working out." Loras replied.

Renly laughed "With the amount of wine he is consuming at the moment he could end up appointing the Imp! Imagine that – he'd need Ser Barristan to give him a lift in order to get on the throne!"

Theon had heard enough. He caught up with the two men and spoke with venom "Tyrion would do a better job than you Renly. For a start he'd certainly spend less time checking out the arses of the Kingsguard."

Both Renly and Loras looked shocked at Theon's sudden outburst. Renly looked like he was about to respond when all three men were hushed by Aron Santagar. Theon turned and saw King Robert had cornered a boar in a small clearing and was advancing slowly towards his prey, spear in hand. Theon moved forward slowly and began to cool down. He did not like to hear people criticise Tyrion.

Tyrion had always treated Theon kindly, ever since he was brought to Kings Landing. He had taught Theon how to read, about the history of the Iron Islands, about the geography of the known world and about how to understand the court intrigues that took place daily. Tyrion also ensured that Theon was taken to Aron Santagar, the master at arms of the Red Keep, to be taught how to fight. More than anything Tyrion made Theon feel welcome and not alone. Theon once asked Tyrion why he had been kind to him when no-one else would.

"A dwarf is just as welcome as a traitor's son." He had replied. Theon did not understand him at the time though now he knew exactly what his friend had meant.

Theon edged closer to the clearing to watch the kill. He noticed the King seemed unsteady on his feet and guessed he must be as drunk as Theon could ever remember him being whilst still able to stand. The boar charged. King Robert thrust his spear but missed the pig and it managed to gore King Robert, who let out a mighty cry of pain. Theon went to his quiver to get a arrow to slay the pig but Barristan beat him to it, moving swiftly and slaying the beast with a quick thrust of his sword. King Robert fell to the floor and blood began to pool in the dirt around him. "Oh fuck, how did I miss that fucking pig?" he roared in anger, grabbing at the hole in his groin. The party all ran towards the fallen King and paniced around him, with the exception of Theon who wandered up casually to the scene.

Barristan was on his knees, supporting Robert's head in his arms. "Your Grace the wound is serious, you need medicine immediately."

Robert laughed heartily "Ser Barristan, I am done for. Just end me here then carry on the hunt in my name." Theon noted that his voice lost none of it's power despite his serious wounds. "He is a tough old sod." Theon thought to himself.

Barristan ignored his remark and turned to the men. "Ser Loras, go run to the coast along Blackwater Bay and see if there are any fishermen who can provide medicine. Ser Beric, make for House Bywater which is south of here at the edge of the Kigswood and bring their maester here immediately. Theon, run back to the horses, ride to Kings Landing and get Grand Maester Pycelle here immediately. Everyone else help me move the King to make him more comfortable."

Theon nodded to Barristan and immediately set off running as quickly as he could. He was swift of feet so he could make his way through the Kingswood with ease whilst keeping up a good pace. Whilst he ran he thought of his home on Pyke. Tyrion had always encouraged him to write to his family and he had done so, every month for since he left. He received infrequent replies at first, all in his Mother's hand, but they had stopped completely in the past two years. Yet Theon still wrote. He wasn't sure why he did, as he was sure they were all just tossed in the fire, but he carried on. Maybe he still wanted to feel like he was an Ironborn, maybe he did to to appease Tyrion – he wasn't sure.

What he was sure of was that he had spent his life suffering through no fault of his own. The thought dawned on Theon "Why am I running to help save the life of a man who has made me suffer so much?"

He slowed down his run to a light jog then eventually he was just walking through the Kingswood. He looked up at the blue sky and admired the green on the trees. It was a beautiful day.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer – if you recognise it then it belongs to GRRM

Jon I

She was wearing a light blue dress today. It flowed down her small frame to the floor but tight around her ass. The small straps exposed her slim shoulders and of course her right breast was exposed.

There were many beautiful women in Qarth, both sophisticated ladies and common whores, but Jon Sand thought this young girl was the most wondrous he had ever seen. And luckily for Jon, this girl was one of common whores so he did have the chance to be with her. What set her apart from the others was her fiery red hair. He had never seen anything like it and he desperately wanted to wrap it round his hands and caress it whilst they lay together.

Jon had come to the waterfront every day for the past two weeks after his lessons. He always sat next to the same ornate statue opposite the brothel where she worked. She was often outside its doors, selling herself to the various merchants who had come to Qarth. Jon just stared at her, never gathering the courage to go talk to her.

Even if she was busy with a customer he stayed there, taking in the sights and smells of the harbour. The many different goods brought to Qarth meant a variety of smells mixed in the air to create a cacophony that excited the senses. Today Jon noted the air smelt of ginger and copper. He also enjoyed watching the cutpurses at work. Whilst he did not approve of theft, he did admire their hand speed.

Jon counted the coins in his pocket and cursed. He did not have enough to pay for time with the girl, even with bartering. Part of him was tempted to go steal the purse of one of the many clueless merchants that wandered the harbour but he knew his father would never approve so he didn't. The thought of his father reminded him to set off for home so he would be there when his father got home. He took a final long look at the girl then set off home.

Jon walked quickly past the various stalls that littered the streets. There was a vast variety of people on the streets, some of which Jon had no idea where they hailed from. He'd only ever known Qarth, yet he knew he was no Qartheen. Of course one could prosper in Qarth without being a native, Xaros Xhoan Daxos for example, and so Jon was quite content living here.

Jon knew he was going to be late as he got to the Hall of a Thousand Thrones so he broke out into a run, nearly sending a cart of wool flying as he moved quickly past it. He arrived at his home, a small house on one of the main streets near the Spicer's Guild, and sat down in the kitchen to await Lothar Morning, his father, to return from his duty with the Civic Guard.

Right on time Lothar entered. He put down his sword and shield and removed his helmet, the colour of light copper with matching tusks. He turned to Jon "Good afternoon Jon, how were your studies today?"

Lothar had paid for Jon to attend a local scholar along with highborn children so he could learn numbers, letters, geography and history. "Good thanks father," Jon replied, "today we learned about the conquest of Westeros by House Targaryen."

A strange look crossed his father's face. He remained silent for an extended period until he eventually responded "Good."

His father was a mystery to Jon. He was a quiet brooding man, not prone to giving his feelings away or partaking in small talk. He was tall and slender with pale blond hair, just beginning to grey, contrasted by a trimmed beard as dark as black marble. His dark eyes, blue flecked with purple, seemed to stare through you and into your soul.

Lothar Morning only seemed to come alive when he had a sword in his hand. Every single day since Jon was able to, his father had taught him how to fight with a sword. It was part of their daily routine, Lothar would come home once his shift had ended and he and Jon would head straight for the yard behind their small house to practice. His father was a great swordsman and his lessons were paying off on Jon as he too was becoming highly skilled. Not that he could come near to his father's skill level yet but he was very good.

It was his father's prowess with a sword that got him a job with the Civic Guard ever since Jon was a year old. He was highly respected and had turned down numerous promotions in order to keep his role guarding the outer gate, as this allowed him to be home every night to see Jon and train him. Jon hoped to follow in his father's footsteps and join the civil guard as well when he reached his sixteenth nameday.

Lothar eventually spoke "Are you ready for today's sword practice?"

"Just let me get changed father, I'll meet you out the back." Jon jogged up the stairs to his room. He quickly took of his shirt and sat down at his desk. His hair was in need of a cut so he brushed it back with his palm to keep his eyes clear. His hair was a mess of brown curls and his eyes a very light grey.

There was no denying it, Jon looked nothing like his father but luckily in a place like Qarth this did not raise even an eyebrow. People of all race and colour mixed in together here with no questions asked.

Jon had only asked his father about his past one time. He managed to sum up the courage after a particularly good practice session two years ago and approached his father as he cleaned his sword.

"Father why do I look nothing like you?" he had blurted out.

Lothar's face did not change as he turned to face Jon but he paused before answering "Your looks take after your mother."

"She wasn't from the same place as you was she?"

Lothar looked impressed "Yes you are correct. She came from a place far away from my land."

Jon continued "You were not married to her, that's why I have a bastards surname and not Morning like you."

"Again correct." Lothar had replied, "You gave been giving this much thought I can see."

"Well yes," Jon had stuttered in response, "you have told me nothing about where I come from."

Lothar sighed and looked down at the floor. "Ask what you want." he eventually said with a deep sadness in his voice.

Jon steadied himself. He'd thought of loads of different questions he wanted answering but now he was struggling to come up with any. "I was born in Westeros in Dorne. That's why my surname is Sand." he said matter of factly.

"Yes."

Jon asked the question he wanted to know most of all. "Is my mother still in Westeros?"

Lothar replied softly "I'm sorry Jon but you mother is dead. She died giving birth to you."

Surprisingly Jon didn't feel sad at this. If anything he felt relief as he now knew he wasn't abandoned and she wasn't with him now only because she couldn't.

Jon continued "What was she like?"

"She was bold, headstrong and had a sense of adventure about her." Jon noted that his father displayed fondness towards the memory of his mother but nothing to suggest love.

Jon carried on "So you had an affair with her away from your wife, resulting in me?"

Lothar hesitated before answering "I was never married."

"But I was conceived out of marriage?!" Jon said exasperated with his father's elusiveness.

"Yes." his father quickly responded.

"So how did we end up on the other side of the world in Qarth?"

Lothar remained focused on the floor. "I had to leave. I was a marked man. I killed a man who...had powerful friends."

Lothar raised his hand as Jon went to ask another question. "Enough Jon, enough. I made a promise to your mother that I would always protect you and I will. I will never be one of hugs...you know that I do love you Jon?"

"Yes."

Lothar then smiled at him, a rare occurrence. "That's all that matters. Just know you are loved and cared for, the rest doesn't mean anything." They had never discussed it since.

Jon's thoughts on this conversation were interrupted by his father's voice. "Are you coming Jon?" he shouted up to Jon's window.

"I'll be down straight away." Jon shouted back. He quickly threw on his makeshift armour and made his way down the stairs. He reflected on the words his father had said to him two years ago. Jon did have a bond with him, mostly forged over their daily sword training, and it felt very much like a teacher and student, not father and son. Maybe there was a love between them or maybe it was duty, he wasn't sure. Whatever it was, it was the only thing Jon knew. It was just the two of them getting by the edge of the world.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer – If you recognise it then GRRM owns it.

Tyrion I

"Oh why did I let Theon drag me out last night?!" Tyrion thought to himself as he sat there nursing a cup of water. He smiled to himself at Cersei's face when he requested the water as opposed to his customary wine. She gave him a look of shock mixed with confusion that he had never seen before. He liked it.

Tyrion was sat in the hand's solar with Cersei awaiting the arrival of the newly appointed hand Tywin Lannister. After Robert's death at the hands of the boar, Joffrey had been crowned king and his first act was to appoint Tywin his hand. The whole coronation was fairly uneventful with the sole exception of Joffrey's decision to release Ser Barristan Selmy from the Kingsguard and appoint the Hound in his place. Ser Barristan was outraged and not placated by the offer of land for his service. He stormed off, insulting Joffrey and the remaining Kingsguard, and has not been seen since. Tyrion joined the rest of Kings Landing in being puzzled by the decision, though Joffrey did not seem of the mind to reconsider.

The door swung open and Tywin entered followed closely by Jamie, clad in the splendid white of the Kingsguard. Tywin was dressed quite plainly though it did not diminish his presence one bit. He strode to the main chair and sat down bruskly. Even Tyrion had to admit he looked imperious, the hand's badge on his lapel looking like it was back where it belonged.

Jamie sat next to Tywin and Cersei took the final seat at the table. Tywin scanned the room. "Where is Joffrey?"

Cersei answered "He is out hunting with The Hound and Ser Greenfield."

Tywin looked sternly at her "In future when I request his presence make sure he is here."

"He is king and w-"

Tywin interrupted Cersei "He is a boy and will do as his Grandfather asks."

Tyrion sniggered but soon stopped when Tywin turned his sharp gaze upon him. Tywin held his stare at Tyrion for a few seconds then continued "I've asked you all here to discuss a few problems we are going to have to address. Firstly Joffrey's stupid decision to remove and humiliate Ser Barristan."

Jamie nodded in agreement as did Tyrion. Cersei however responded in disagreement "Ser Barristan was old and Joffrey saw fit to appoint his loyal sword Sandor Clegane to freshen up the Kingsguard."

"Ser Barristan is a legendary knight and a hero of the realm." Jamie spoke quickly, though he did not turn to look at Cersei.

Tyrion continued "By removing him from the Kingsguard, Joffrey is giving further force to any dissenter's arguments against his reign. And there will be many with the current high taxes, lack of food, rampant thieving and raping - and that's just in Kings Landing."

Cersei sneered at Tyrion "Joffrey is the rightful king. Of that there is no doubt."

"His father Robert took the throne by force, there are many who could do so now." Tyrion replied. He despaired of his sisters narrow mindedness, she held such biased viewpoints and very rarely saw the full picture. It made his head hurt.

Tywin spoke up "Precisely. If Ser Barristan were to rally to another's cause then it would give their claim more credit. That being said the mistake has already been made and we must hope no further harm comes of it. This brings us to the next point, pledges of fealty. It is vital all the noble houses bend the knee as it will secure Joffrey's position on the throne. So far only Houses Lannister, Tyrell and Tully have done so."

"Wait hasn't Renly Baratheon bent the knee?"

"Yes, he has" Tywin responded, "but until Stannis does then we could still be threatened. He is the head of the Stormlands branch of House Baratheon and he left the capital the day after Jon Arryn died."

Tyrion spoke up "Stannis is not a popular man whereas Renly is. As long as Renly supports the throne then I believe we have the Stormlands."

Tywin appeared to think on this then spoke "A good point. I may send Renly to Dragonstone to remind Stannis of this. Then there is the Vale."

"How do we deal with crazy Lysa?" Cersei asked in her most mocking tone.

Tyrion thought it just as his father said it "Baelish. I am sending him to go see her. He always seemed to have much influence over her."

Tyrion looked at Jamie and they both raised knowing eyebrows. They'd both heard Littlefinger brag how he took her maidenhead when he was a ward at Riverrun. No doubt he would try bring her in line using his cock if he needs to.

Tywin carried on "House Greyjoy are not known for their loyalty to any throne but we still need them to acknowledge Joffrey as king, preferably without the need for a rebellion as Robert had to deal with."

"Theon?!" Tyrion said half a question, half an answer.

"Knowing Balon Greyjoy, he probably does not consider Theon an Ironman anymore so he cannot pledge fealty for House Greyjoy. No Balon must come himself and bend the knee." Tywin spoke plainly. "As a sign of good faith I am sending Theon back to Pyke to deliver the message. Once House Greyjoy has bent the knee Theon will be free to leave Kings Landing and return that shithole forever."

Cersei turned to Tyrion. "What will you do without your little drinking buddy?" she asked with no real concern in her voice.

Tyrion smiled and responded quickly "There's always Tommen." Internally though Tyrion was troubled at this order. Knowing Theon as he did, he would expect to be welcomed back on Pyke like a returning prince whereas the reality would be very different. Tyrion had grown to care for Theon, ever since he found him as a ten year old boy crying by himself in the Red Keep, and he didn't want him to get hurt or, worse of all, be rejected by his real family. Tyrion made a mental note to talk properly to Theon and check his expectations are in line with reality.

"That leads us to House Martell who represent Dorne." Tywin said, "There is no love lost between the throne and Dorne. I don't expect we will be visited anytime soon by either Prince Doran or Prince Oberyn coming to bend the knee. House Martell will want to maintain their isolation from the rest of Westeros and for the moment I am fine with that continuing, we shall have to take their silence as fealty for now."

"Could we send someone to accept their loyalty and treat with them at Sunspear?" Jamie asked

Tywin shook his head in what looked like disappointment "And who would volunteer for that duty? Many people go missing in the Dornish desert, especially those not in favour of Oberyn Martell. Don't be so naïve Jamie."

Tyrion wanted to remind his father that all animosity was a result of his order's during the sack of Kings Landing but he held his tongue. His hangover wasn't getting any better and he could not deal with the thought of his father shouting in response to any quip, even if it was true.

"Finally there is the North. In his grief at the death of Eddard Stark, Robert did not bother with the North and Lady Catelyn Stark did nothing to try and bring them closer to the throne. The North has become another Dorne."

"Why do we need the North? Its full of mud, farmers and tree worshiping simpletons." Cersei sneered.

Jamie put his head in his hands as Tywin rebuked her "The North is very able to ravage and conquer the Riverlands and even the Westerlands if commanded by a capable battle commander. They have many resources and are able to field a huge army if House Stark called their banners. Therefore it is vital that we strengthen our alliance with them and House Stark in particular, you stupid girl."

Tywin looked at her with utter disdain before he carried on "I have received a raven confirming that Lady Catelyn Stark and her son the heir of Winterfell Robb Stark are journeying to Kings Landing to pledge fealty. We need to use their time at Kings Landing to strengthen the bond between our Houses. She will have no doubt planned a short trip in order to return to the safety of the North so we must be clever on how we can do this."

Tyrion spoke up first "Mycella is a similar age to the boy Robb….."

Cersei quickly responded in a raised voice "No. She will not be married off to that Northern boy and have to go live in that freezing barren wasteland."

"She will do as she is commanded Cersei. It is an idea to consider though, as is finding a suitor for Lady Catelyn who has never remarried" Tywin spoke sharply.

Tyrion ignored Cersei muttering under her breath, no doubt threatening everyone in one way or another, and spoke up again "Joffrey's thirteenth nameday is in the next fortnight, around the time they will be here. I'd bet the boy Robb loves jousting and swordfighting – all boys of that age do – so why not hold a tournament in Kings Landing to celebrate the new King's nameday. We can announce it on the day when the Northerners arrival in Kings Landing. I'm sure Robb himself will persuade his mother to extend their trip to watch the whole spectacle. This gives us more time to befriend him."

Tywin mulled this over before speaking "I will consider that idea Tyrion."

"That means he likes it." Tyrion thought as he nodded back at his father. He knew Tywin would never openly praise any plan of his but if he didn't dismiss it immediately then it generally meant it was a good one. To others it would be strange that a father was unable to praise his son for anything, for Tyrion it was all he had ever known.

He didn't care about any of that now. He just wanted this meeting to end so he could get back to bed and sleep off this hangover. "It's hard being a Lannister." He thought as a wry smiled spread across his lips.


	6. Chapter 6

_Please note there will be no updates in the next fortnight as I am going to be sat on a beach relaxing and enjoying a wide variety of beers and cocktails. However the story will not be abandoned and I hope my holiday gives me time to think of more chapters in this story!_

_A few questions have been raised in reviews and private messages which I will attempt answer below:_

_There are no direwolves in this story. The litter was never found by Robb as there was no Jon Snow to chase and he never went to watch Benjen deliver the Kings Justice to Gared anyway (Catelyn never allowed it as explained in her first chapter)._

_Dawn has not been forgotten about but it has not been introduced yet._

_Renly does not know about the truth of Joffrey/Mycella/Tommen's parentage. The only living character who does is Stannis (and obviously Jamie and Cersei!)_

_The first Greyjoy rebellion against King Robert played out pretty much exactly as it did in the books with the notable exception of Theon being a hostage at Kings Landing as opposed to Winterfell._

Disclaimer – If you recognise it then it belongs to GRRM

Catelyn II

She had never been to Kings Landing before so she was not sure what she would make of the capital. However the first thing that struck her upon entering the city was not the size of the buildings, the sheer crowds within the streets or the noise coming from everywhere. No, the first thing that grabbed Catelyn's attention was the smell. She thought to herself "The whole place smells like a privy." as they rode through the streets towards the Red Keep.

Mirroring her thoughts, Torrhen Karstark spoke loudly to Daryn Hornwood "This place stinks of shit." The whole party seemed to nod in unison in agreement.

Catelyn and Robb had been accompanied to the capital by Brynden, all the wards of Winterfell except Jasper Redfort and a guard of a hundred men led by their captains Rodrik and Jory Cassel. Benjen had remained Winterfell to ensure a Stark was in place and Jasper had agreed to remain there on the pretence of helping Benjen with his duties, though everyone knew it was due to his infatuation with Beth Cassel and his hope he could charm her whilst her father and uncle were in Kings Landing. Their party had been joined by Lord Mooton from Maidenpool and Lady Whent from Harrenhal en route, along with their collective guard of a combined thirty five men, who were also travelling to the capital to pledge fealty. Whilst Lord Mooton was an whingey complaining excuse of a man, Catelyn found Lady Whent a charming companion and enjoyed some female company as they carried on to Kings Landing.

The journey had been a long one, lasting three weeks, though they had managed to dine and sleep indoors on all but one night. They had been guests at various noble houses on some of these nights, including the Twins, Fairmarket, Acorn Hall and even Riverrun, where Catelyn had not been for a very long time. She had sat with her father Hoster, who was bedridden and very ill, whilst Robb sparred with Edmure in the yard. She was glad to have visited her childhood home, even though it pained her to see her once proud and strong father in such a weak state.

The worst night was spent at the Twins as guests of House Frey. Lord Walder ignored his own son Perwyn, who he had not seen since he was sent to become a ward at Winterfell, and spent all evening throwing females at Robb, trying to persuade him to take one of his House as a bride. Robb only seemed mildly interested in one girl, Perwyn's sister Roslin, but had to spend the entire night solemnly dancing with various unattractive females whilst Catelyn politely declined the many requests of Lord Walder to arrange Robb's marriage. Brynden spent the night arguing with two of Lord Walder's sons, Black Walder and Hosteen, about a variety of topics, nearly resulting in violence when the feast had ended. The only person who seemed to enjoy the evening was Torrhen Karstark who was found in the bedchambers of Amerei Frey, one of Lord Walder's granddaughters, despite her being married to a hedge knight. Catelyn was already dreading the return trip back in case Lord Walder wanted them to stay another night.

Their party rode through Kings Landing till they reached the Red Keep. They were greeted by Ser Moore and Ser Greenfield of the Kingsguard and a mass of servants who took their belongings and escorted them to their rooms. Whilst walking Ser Greenfield informed Catelyn and the boys of the tournament to commemorate King Joffrey's thirteenth nameday in a week's time. Immediately Robb and all the wards were excited.

"There is a scheduled joust, a melee and an archery competition, each with a prize of gold dragons." Ser Greenfield told them

"Who is announced as riding in the joust?" Domeric asked like a giddy maid

"Myself and all the Kingsguard, the Knight of Flowers Loras Tyrell, his brother Garlan, Renly Baratheon, Balon Swann, Addam Marbrand, The Mountain Gregor Clegane, Beric Dondarrion, Theon Greyjoy, Jason Mallister, Lothor Brune and many more."

"Holy crap, The Mountain!" Torrhen Karstark had exclaimed

"If only I had brought my lance I could have entered." Daryn sighed, though Catelyn and everyone else knew all the boys had only recently attempted jousting and were still novices.

"Ser Brynden, maybe you could enter?" Robb asked his uncle expectantly.

Brynden smiled "If I could borrow a lance then I don't see why not."

Catelyn sighed and thought to herself "Guess we are going to be spending more than one night in the capital."

* * *

"I don't know why people would be willing to die for that monstrosity." Catelyn thought as she entered the throne room and took her first look at the iron throne. She had always envisioned it to be a graceful ancient seat but to look at it in person it merely looked like a twisted mess of uncomfortable metal.

Robb walked alongside her, looking every inch the lord in his Stark emblazoned armour and carrying Ice across his back. Brynden had discussed it with Catelyn and Benjen before they left Winterfell and all three came to the conclusion that it was time for Robb to wield the ancestral blade of his house. They also agreed, despite much resistance from Catelyn initially, that Robb would perform the next execution with the sword to uphold the King's justice. They had not told Robb of this until they reached Kings Landing and he had taken the news with grace and humility, despite the excitement from Domeric and the other wards. Catelyn could not have been more proud of her son and that feeling continued now as he walked with her into the throne room. They stood near the front and were soon joined by Brynden, Domeric, Perwyn, Torrhen, Lord Mooton and Lady Whent.

"Where's Daryn?" Robb turned and asked Perwyn quietly.

"On the street of silk." He responded with a shake of the head

"Does Torrhen know?" Robb asked. Daryn was betrothed to Torrhen's younger sister Alys and they were to be married when she came of age.

"Don't think so," Perwyn shrugged, "but don't think he'd object too much. It's not like Daryn is married to his sister yet so he is allowed his fun."

"I think we should go look for him after we are done here." Domeric spoke whilst giving a knowing wink to Perwyn and Robb.

Before either could respond or Catelyn could object, all their attention was taken by the seven Kingsguard entering the room and lining up at the base of the throne. They were soon followed by the King, clad in Lannister red and wearing a magnificent golden crown, and numerous members of the small council. Catelyn thought she could identify some of the small council members. The bald chubby man dressed in fine silks was Varys, the elderly man with long white whiskers must be Grand Maester Pycelle, there was Renly who looked like identical to a young Robert, the Queen Regent Cersei was easily spotted by her beautiful long blonde hair and the imposing balding man with fierce eyes must be the Hand of the King Tywin Lannister.

Joffrey sat down leisurely on the throne and the crowd went silent. Catelyn quickly reached for Robb's hand and squeezed it tightly before letting go. He turned and looked warmly at Catelyn then turned back to the throne.

Joffrey addressed the audience. "Welcome my loyal subjects. Some new faces in the crowd, always nice to see. Anyway we will begin with pledges of fealty."

Catelyn watched as Robb made his way forward to the base of the throne. He unsheathed Ice and placed it on the floor before going down to one knee. He spoke clearly with confidence, looking straight at the King "I, Robb Stark, the Head of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, pledge fealty to King Joffrey Baratheon, first of his name, in the name of House Stark and all its bannermen in the Northern Kingdom . This pledge is taken in the eyes of The Seven."

Catelyn smiled in surprise. She had encouraged Robb from a boy to follow The Seven but he never displayed much interest so she did not expect him to swear anything by The Seven. "It was a nice touch" she thought to herself. She had never tried to encourage him to worship the Northern Old Gods as she did not believe in them herself. This had raised a few eyebrows from Benjen but he never had an issue with it. He appreciated that Catelyn had her faith and could only raise her son in the same way.

Joffrey stared at Robb intently before eventually speaking "I thank and accept your fealty Robb Stark. Your father was a loyal subject to my father and I hope you will be the same for me."

"I shall endeavour to, Your Grace." Robb replied.

"I'm sure. Please stand."

Robb raised off his knee and picked up Ice. Joffrey saw the blade and was clearly interested. "That is a beautiful weapon. Valyrian steel?" he asked

Robb kept Ice by his side in full view and nodded "Yes Your Grace. It is Ice, the ancestral sword of House Stark."

"Can you fight with it?"

Robb considered his answer "Yes Your Grace, I practice sword fighting every day with my uncle Ser Brynden Tully, the master of arms at Winterfell, and I believe I am proficient."

This clearly got Joffrey annoyed and he stiffened up on the throne. He retorted "I practice with the Kingsguard every day, the best swords in Westeros, and I am deadly with a blade and lance."

Robb did not change the tone of his voice in response, though Catelyn knew he would be getting annoyed by King Joffrey. "I have no doubt of that Your Grace."

This response clearly didn't appease Joffrey "I'm sure you are aware of the tournament for my nameday starting next week. Are you to enter the joust to show off your skills?"

Again Robb considered his answer "I am aware of your nameday tournament and I look forward to being a spectator at all the events. Unfortunately I have only recently began to practice jousting so I am not skilled enough to enter the joust personally Your Grace, though my unc-"

Joffrey interrupted him with a mocking laugh. Once he had stopped he spoke condescendingly "You have only just started practicing jousting?! Unlike your Northmen, we start using a lance from a much younger age so we are highly skilled from a young age."

Robb quickly responded "Well then I shall look forward to watching you ride in the joust and showing us your skills. I assume you are entering Your Grace?"

Catelyn knew Robb was starting to lose his temper, something he very rarely did. She sent up a silent prayer to The Seven that he did not do or say something that would lose him his head.

Joffrey looked flustered and turned to face his mother. Tywin stepped forward, placing a hand on Joffrey's shoulder, and spoke to Robb "Unfortunately His Grace has a shoulder injury from his sparring with Ser Jamie and The Hound that prevents him from entering the joust on this occasion. Is that not correct Grand Maester Pycelle?"

"Why yes, of course." Pycelle blustered out, obviously unprepared for being put on the spot.

"Well I hope it gets better soon Your Grace so you may joust again." Robb spoke aloud with an ever so subtle mocking tone that Catelyn detected. Clearly a few others in the crowd did to as a few titters and laughs were briefly heard.

Joffrey was furious, his face now bright red. He leaned forward on the throne "So you do not joust but you are skilled with a sword. Yes?"

"Yes."

"Then you should enter the melee and show us what you are capable of with your ancestral sword. Your king would like to see you fight and, as a loyal subject, I'm sure you would oblige me. Unless there is some reason you cannot compete." A vicious smile spread across Joffrey's face as he glared at Robb.

Robb's face remained calm and collected "Of course Your Grace, I shall enter the melee."

Catelyn thought she was going to be sick. Robb was only fourteen yet he would be fighting against numerous men in a free for all. She did not want this but knew she could not object without humiliating her son.

Joffrey leaned back with a satisfied look on his face "I shall enjoy watching you fight in the melee. Good luck Robb Stark and try not to get hurt. Now any more pledges."

Robb moved back into the crowd towards Catelyn whilst Lord Mooton made his way to the throne. He maintained his look of composure but Catelyn could see by the faint tremble of his hand that he was nervous about what he had let himself in for. She wanted to shout at him for letting his temper make him reckless. She wanted to rage at him for putting himself in a dangerous situation. But instead she grabbed his hand and held it tightly, afraid for her boy.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer – If you recognise it then GRRM owns it

Jon II

"Your footwork was much better there Jon. See how much easier it was to repel my strike whilst keeping your balance."

Jon nodded in agreement and Lothar looked at him with approval. His father truly was a master with a blade and literally everything he ever told Jon as they trained helped him improve. Some days after his studies Jon would spar with the other boys and he could beat them handily. One day Jon even routed a passing Braavosi water dancer who had watched him beat the boys before challenging Jon himself.

"Again." Lothar commanded and Jon stepped forward to strike at his father. His shot was easily stopped and Lothar returned with a thrust of his own. Jon used the advice given by his father and lent back on his heels so he did not fall over as he blocked. He mirrored the footwork of his father as he circled him, constantly striking and testing Jon's defence. This continued until Lothar dummied towards Jon's head but struck his knee. Jon hit the floor with a thud but soon pulled himself to his feet. He knew better than to linger on the floor, if he did he's receive the flat of his father's blade across his head.

Lothar sheathed his sword. "That is enough for today. You did well Jon but you still fall for that same feint I use every time. We must work on that. But you should be proud of your improvements in the past few months. Water?"

Jon eagerly took the skin and drank heartily from it. Lothar motioned towards a small stone bench and they both took a seat and relaxed in the late afternoon sun. Jon lent back and closed his eyes, allowing his body to relax. He was taken by surprise when his father spoke up as he rarely instigated conversation after a practice "There's something I have been meaning to discuss with you Jon."

"Yes father, go ahead."

Lothar cleared his throat. "You have been seen spending much time outside a brothel after your lessons."

"By who?"

"That does not matter," Lothar replied, though Jon knew it must have been someone who father worked with on the Civic Guard as he had no friends, "what matters to me is why."

Jon was confused "What do you mean father?"

"Is it just for sex?"

Jon felt himself blush at the directness of the question "What else would it be for?"

Lothar looked sternly at Jon "I was once your age and I had the same desires. But I never frequented a brothel."

"It was different for you, you are not some bastard." Jon responded bitterly

Lothar replied with sadness in his voice "As I feared, it isn't just sex then. You feel like you could never find a girl without having to pay."

Jon nodded. Though they never said it to his face, he'd heard many of the boys in his lessons mock his bastard name. He tried to not let it bother him but sometimes their words got through the cracks in his armour. He'd never considered he would be able to find love with a normal girl and his surname would always get in the way.

Lothar put a strong hand on his shoulder and Jon met his eyes. "Then I have failed you Jon. I have never wanted you to feel inferior to anyone else because of your name. Remember Jon that a man's worth is not based on his name, it is based on his deeds. Don't ever reduce your standards to meet the expectations of others, live by your own and you can achieve anything. There is greatness in your blood…."

Lothar looked away, seemingly lost in memories. Jon felt moved by his father's concern and he resolved to himself there and then to never live like he should be ashamed of his name. He wondered about the "greatness" in his blood and whether it was a reference to his father or his long dead mother. Lothar was a very humble man so he assumed it must have been his mother.

Lothar eventually spoke "You will find a woman one day who will love you regardless of your name. A woman like that is worthy of your attention, not a girl who does not even want to know your name. Do not go to brothels Jon, you are better than that." With that Lothar stood up and walked into the house, leaving Jon sat on the bench.

Sat there alone he relaxed and thought on his father's message. Whilst the girl from the docks was beautiful Jon knew she was by all accounts a slave to some richer unscrupulous man who saw the girl as a possession, not a person. Jon felt ashamed knowing he was willing to help fund that man's lifestyle and continue the exploitation of the girl. "Father is right," Jon thought, "I do want the love of a good woman and not just to take pleasure with one."

Jon entered the house, placing his sword on the table, and climbed the stairs to his room. As he passed his father's door he could see it was slightly ajar and he peered in quietly. He saw Lothar sat on the edge of bed, staring intently at the chest that sat in the corner of the room. It was huge and was used as a table. It was secured by a massive lock that looked unbreakable, even if someone were to take a warhammer to it. Jon had never even seen the key. He had always wondered what was in this chest but had never received any further information from his father other than "my past."

Jon watched as Lothar looked at the chest and stroked his whiskers around his chin gently, almost like he was soothing himself. He was looking at the chest with the look of a man full of regrets and sorrow. Part of Jon wanted to go and put his arm around his father to comfort him but he felt like it would be an intrusion of a private moment between his father and whatever demons plague him from his past.

Both their attention was taken by a loud commotion outside on the street. Jon moved to the window at the top of the stairs overlooking the street. He was soon joined by Lothar who asked "What is going on Jon?"

"Not sure father."

They both watched and listened as people ran up and down the street in excitement. Jon observed men wandering around in a stunned daze and young children giggling in mirth. The noise was as loud as Jon had ever heard in his lifetime and through the various languages and noises that blended together only a few sentences were clear.

"Dragons!"

"The Mother of Dragons is a Targaryen."

"Beautiful Silver haired princess"

"Dothraki hoard."

Jon turned to his father and couldn't help but smiled widely. "Dragons! I don't believe it."

Lothar said nothing, he just gazed out the window in what could only be described as complete shock.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer – If you recognise it then it belongs to GRRM

Catelyn III

"Not very ladylike." Brynden said in a non-judgemental voice as he came and sat down next to Catelyn. He was referring to her continued biting of fingernails. She was down to her last finger now and she was sure she could continue down through skin to the bone the way she was feeling. Nerves wracked her body as she sat in the stand awaiting the start of the melee.

She was sat with Brynden, Rodrik, Jory, Domeric, Perwyn and Daryn. The boys were all excited for the melee and the chance to watch Robb and Torrhen compete in what was a confirmed field of 92 men. Torrhen had also decided to enter the melee and both he and Robb had been practicing fighting with a sword on horseback with Brynden and Rodrik every day.

Whilst Torrhen appeared confident and at ease with the idea of fighting in the melee, it was obvious to Catelyn that Robb was apprehensive. He was far more withdrawn than normal and he seemed focused only on his training. It was a shame too as the melee was to take place on the third day of the tournament so Robb was unable to enjoy the opening two days of the jousting that otherwise he would have loved watching.

The only time Catelyn saw Robb smile was when Brynden won his opening round joust against the Greyjoy boy. For the first three tilts the boy had gone against standard tactics he no doubt would have been taught and tried cocky crowd-pleasing headshots with his lance, all which Brynden easily avoided. On the forth tilt Brynden deftly moved his horse and lance to catch the Kraken on his helm with a headshot of his own, sending him sprawling to the dirt much to the amusement of the watching crowd. Even Robb laughed at the sight of Brynden putting the show off Greyjoy in his place. However the rest of the time Robb could not join in the merriment and excitement of his friends, his mind preoccupied.

The other boys were having a great time. Domeric and Torrhen were both making numerous bets on the jousts (with mixed results) whilst Daryn was overindulging on the ale with Garth Tyrell and one of the Redwyne twins who had been beaten in his first round joust. All the boys cheered on Brynden and Jory Cassel in the joust who were the only Northern party entrants and now both were through to the fourth round after winning their first three jousts each. After Brynden unhorsed the Greyjoy boy he had beaten Ser Balman of House Stokeworth and then Black Walder Frey, a victory Catelyn knew he relished after the incident at the Twins. Jory had beaten Ser Hugh of the Vale, an unnamed hedge knight who had a dagger piercing a black heart as his coat of arms and, in somewhat of an upset, Ser Preston Greenfield of the Kingsguard en route to the fourth round. Torrhen had gone practically delirious with that win as he had placed a big bet with Renly Baratheon on Jory beating the Kingsguard at favourable odds. That money had gone towards a brand new set of armour smithed on the street of steel, emblazoned with the white sunburst of House Karstark. Torrhen had paid the smith and his young apprentice additional gold dragons to stay up throughout the night to ensure the armour set was ready for the melee. Catelyn had gone with Rodrik to collect the armour that morning on Torrhen's behalf whilst he practiced with Robb and she was taken aback when Renly Baratheon himself brought the armour out for collection. She thought it may have been a forfeit as part of the bet with Torrhen but she soon realised it wasn't Renly and it was just the apprentice had incredibly similar appearance to the youngest Baratheon. "The resemblance is so close that they could be related." She had thought at the time.

A trumpet sounded and everyone in the crowd stood and turned to face the royal box. King Joffrey entered, accompanied by Ser Jamie, Queen Cersei, Tyrion Lannister, Myrcella Baratheon and Tommen Baratheon, who smiled and waved at the crowd much the annoyance of King Joffrey who scowled at his younger brother. Once King Joffrey sat down, the crowd followed suit. Almost immediately the participants of the melee started to emerge to rapturous applause. Catelyn immediately looked for Robb and spotted him looking magnificent in his silver armour. His shield showed the direwolf of House Stark and he held his favoured longsword in other hand. Robb had wanted to try use Ice in the melee but, as the event was on horseback, Brynden had convinced him to use a longsword so he would be able to carry a shield as well. Using a greatsword like Ice required both hands so he would not have the option of a shield. Catelyn also saw Torrhen who took looked every inch the warrior in his new armour. He caught up to Robb and gave him a friendly pat on the back which Robb returned in kind.

Robb rode closer to the stand where Catelyn sat and raised his helm. Catelyn was surprised when Robb did not speak to her but instead turned to face a group of girls sat a few rows in front of the Northern party. She noted Robb smiled, the first time she had seen him do so since this melee was announced, and he spoke confidently to one girl in particular "My Lady, could I ask your name?"

She smiled back at Robb "I am Margaery Tyrell, my Lord."

Robb continued to smile "May a request your favour for this melee my Lady, I would be honoured to fight for your good name."

Margaery shook her head though Catelyn noticed she did appear just as smitten with Robb as he was with her. "I'm sorry my Lord but I have already given my favour to my brother, the Knight of Flowers Ser Loras Tyrell." She pointed to a knight wearing the most decorative white armour, adorned with three red roses, who was passing out flowers to young maidens in the crowd.

"I understand my Lady, though I hope to earn your favour in future through my efforts today." He turned to one of the ladies accompanying Margaery. "May I request your favour lady…."

"Alla Tyrell." She quickly responded and tied her scarf around the outstretched arm of Robb, who politely nodded, his eyes lingering on Margaery Tyrell, before snapping his helm shut and riding off to join the participants who circled the arena.

Catelyn felt a pang of jealousy that she had been overlooked by her son and Brynden seemed to sense this and rubbed her arm gently. He whispered in her ear "Robb likely wants to continue to foster good relations with other noble houses, don't take it personally." Catelyn would have liked to believe it the truth but she knew that Robb was a growing boy of fifteen who was likely taken in by the beauty of Margaery Tyrell, who now sat giggling with Alla and the other girls around them.

She could also hear Domeric and Daryn laughing and pointing. She followed their gaze to see Torrhen desperately trying to get a favour from a lady in attendance, eventually settling on something from Lolly Stokeworth.

"That was brilliant!" Domeric said as he laughed heartily

"He was getting so desperate he even asked the Queen of Thorns and even she refused!" Daryn replied, also struggling to compose himself between the laughter.

Catelyn observed the infamous Queen of Thorns Olenna Redwyne and noted she was glaring with a look of pure anger towards Margaery Tyrell. "She is probably not impressed that Margaery would be caught smiling at a Northern boy when she has bigger plans for her no doubt." Catelyn thought to herself.

Domeric stood up and shouted over to Janos Slynt "Janos, What odds you give me on either Robb Stark or Torrhen Karstark winning the melee?"

Slynt gave a dismissive look and responded "One hundred to one. No wait…. one hundred and fifty to one. Those boys stand no chance."

Domeric smiled towards Catelyn, obviously aware she heard that reply, then replied "I'll wager 50 gold dragons if you'll take the bet Janos, I believe in the North."

Slynt smiled smugly and nodded so Domeric flung him the small bag of money which he accepted and pocketed quickly.

As the trumpet sounded again to signify the start of the melee Catelyn sent up a silent prayer to the Seven to watch over Robb and bring him back to her safely.

* * *

Catelyn's fingernails were now long gone and her nerves were completely shaken. This was by far the longest two hours of her life. The crowd contrasted her silent fear with loud excited shouting and gasps of amazement at the fighting they were watching. It was down to the final six men and Robb was still involved, though he had survived some scary moments when he came close to falling from his horse and being eliminated from the contest. Torrhen had lasted a respectable thirty minutes before he was unhorsed by a blow to the head from Lord Bryce Caron. Robb had gained a measure of revenge for his friend by unhorsing Lord Bryce ten minutes later.

"Robb is doing great!" Brynden shouted to Catelyn from his standing position. It seemed like everyone was standing to watch the spectacle apart from Catelyn who continued to send up silent prayers to any Gods listening.

She winced as Robb defended himself from another stiff blow from Sandor Clegane, the only Kingsguard to enter the contest. To Catelyn, the Hound seemed to focus all his attacks on Robb exclusively, much to the delight of King Joffrey who could be heard shouting from him to "get him" from the Royal box. Brynden had spent most the contest shouting words of encouragement to Robb and occasionally trying to guide him tactically. Domeric, Perwyn, Daryn and Torrhen, who joined them in the stand once he had disarmed, were all screaming themselves hoarse in support of Robb, especially Domeric who also kept one eye on Janos Slynt's whereabouts.

Just as Robb unhorsed Ser Guyard Morrigen with some masterful swordsmanship, Ser Loras Tyrell charged his horse into that of Ser Jon Fossoway to knock him to the floor, leaving a final four of Robb, Ser Loras, The Hound and Thoros of Myr, wielding his usual flaming sword dosed in wildfire. The four men circled each other, each one tired from the contest but ready to continue the fight.

"Come on Dog, get him!" King Joffrey shouted and this caused Sandor Clegane to charge towards Robb. Catelyn shut her eyes and could hear the clash of steel and the cries of the crowd.

"Come on Robb, keep going!" Torrhen shouted loudly

"Get yourself steady on the horse." Brynden directed in his assuring voice.

Catelyn opened her eyes to see Robb pulling himself up and moving his horse around the side of Thoros of Myr who swung widely but missed easily. Catelyn noticed Sandor Clegane seemed unwilling to move after Robb whilst he lingered near the flaming sword. Robb seemed to notice this too as he quickly moved his horse into the side of Thoros's and rammed them towards the Hound. This clearly surprised the Kingsguard who did tried to move his dark horse backwards away from the oncoming fire, only to find the way blocked by Ser Loras. Robb kept on pushing determinedly, resulting in Sandor falling from his horse and taking down Ser Loras with him. Thoros was now holding onto the side of his horse for dear life and dropped his flaming sword. Even Cateyn stood to her feet and began to cheer loudly as Robb calmly moved his horse around to the hanging Thoros and gracefully knocked him to the floor with a precision blow.

Time seemed to stand still as everyone erupted wildly. Brynden hugged her tightly and the boys jumped up and down cheering.

"Robb's won, Robb's won! He's done it!"

Catelyn wiped a tear from her eye as Robb dismounted, removed his helmet and raised a fist in triumph to the crowd. He waved towards her and blew a kiss, before following suit with Margaery Tyrell, who clearly blushed despite her strongest attempts not to. King Joffrey was seen storming off from the royal box and Catelyn noticed that as Ser Jamie went to follow him he was stopped by his dwarf brother who whispered something in the Lord Commander's ear. After a brief discussion Ser Jamie turned and began to walk down to the arena floor and towards Robb. The crowd went silent as the Kingslayer strode determinedly towards Robb, who tried to maintain his composure though Catelyn knew he was nervous by the look in his eye.

Ser Jamie reached Robb and looked him straight in the eye. After a brief silence he spoke "Take a knee."

Robb duly did and Jamie unsheathed his sword. He placed it on each of his shoulders and spoke clearly "By the Seven I knight thee Ser Robb Stark of Winterfell."

The crowd erupted again. Robb stood and shook the hand of Ser Jamie, who duly raised his hand in victory. Though Catelyn was beyond happy she noticed a brief look between the Kingslayer and the Imp which made her think this knighthood was not all it seemed and had some other motive.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer – If you recognise it then it belongs to GRRM

Tyrion II

Jousting had fascinated a young Tyrion. He remembered when he was six years old he had stood and watched in awe as his older brother Jamie had decimated the field in a small tournament at Casterly Rock in honour of his father's nameday. It was a Westerland's only event but still attracted a strong field that Jamie beat handily with a blend of finesse and brutal power. Jamie was only fourteen and not yet a knight but he beat men ten and twenty years older than him with ease.

Tyrion remembered how he ran to his brother after he crowned their sister the queen of love and beauty (as he always did) and begged him to show him how to do the things with a lance that he could. Jamie was kind and lifted Tyrion onto his horse and tried to show him some basic moves. Tyrion was having a great time until a furious Tywin emerged and instructed Jamie to "stop embarrassing yourself with the dwarf – he will never joust." Tyrion had never forgotten those words and he fell out of love with jousting there and then.

He only became interested in jousting again when he got older and had grown to love to gamble. Though he had no personal ability with a lance, he was able to spot a good bet when one presented itself. However he always bet on Jamie no matter who he fought – luckily for Tyrion he was a fantastic jouster so it was a winning wager in the majority of occasions.

Other nobles and knights wondered how Tyrion could seem to spot a good bet despite having no personal experience of jousting. Tyrion never told anyone his method but it was simple. He just looked for those who rode and handled a lance like Jamie. Tyrion's keen eye could spot someone who commanded his horse, held his shield or gripped his lance like his brother and it was these observations that gave him plenty of winnings over the years.

So far he had done very well gambling in the joust tournament for Joffrey's nameday. He made a healthy sum from Renly Baratheon backing an unknown young hedge knight against Ser Osmund Kettleblack in round two (the young knight's posture as he rode reminded Tyrion of his brother), won even more from Mace Tyrell betting against the Kingsguard Ser Blount in favour of Ser Balon Swann whom Tyrion viewed as far more proficient and a superior knight in general and not forgetting all his bets on Jamie that had each come in. The only bet he had lost recently was on Theon in the archery competition, though he did manage to come second behind Ser Balon so it was not a poor performance unlike his embarrassing efforts in the joust where Theon had made a fool of himself showing off. Theon had set sail for Pyke this morning and Tyrion was sorry to see him leave, not to mention he was worried that Theon did not take in his message that his homecoming would not be as glorious as he anticipates.

As Tyrion looked around the crowd from the royal box he could see there were bets being placed everywhere for this final day of the joust. In particular he noticed Janos Slynt furiously placing and taking bets with a variety of people. The rumour was that he had lost a huge amount to a young boy who had bet on the Wolf Knight, as Robb Stark was now known within Kings Landing, to win the melee so he was undoubtedly trying to recover his losses.

Whilst Tyrion would normally have loved to take advantage of Slynt's desperation to make more money and plunge the odious man into further debt, he had other priorities today. It was a masterstroke on his part to get Robb Stark knighted after his victory, something even his father acknowledged. Tyrion had assessed the boy and, whilst he was noble and honourable, he had a desire for success and recognition. His knighthood by the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard provides Robb Stark the glory he seeks and naturally creates ties and friendship between Winterfell and the Throne. In addition Knighthood was not highly valued in the North but by knighting their future liege Lord it would make this "Southern" custom more desirable and it would likely bring the whole kingdom closer to the rest of Westeros over the coming years.

Tyrion had ensured that Ser Robb and his mother Lady Catelyn were invited to sit in the royal box for the final day of the joust, alongside King Joffrey, Cersei, Lord Tywin and uncle Kevan. This would give opportunity to further get to know the boy and his mother and build the relationship between the houses, not to mention it sends a message to the rest of Westeros that the throne and the North are on good terms. Even his father was coming to sit and properly meet Robb Stark, which surprised Tyrion somewhat as he normally would not do anything so "social".

The only problem is all this was Joffrey. Tyrion turned and shook his head at his nephew who was sat in front of him in the box. He had petulantly refused to even try to get along with the "Northern Peasant" and in a move clearly to try aggravate Ser Robb, he had insisted on Margaery Tyrell joining him to watch the final day of the joust as his personal guest. Not only was this counterproductive and childish, it played into the Queen of Thorns hands who now doubt would be pushing Tywin and Cersei to announce an engagement in the coming days. Tyrion watched as Joffrey practically ignored Margaery and he knew that that would only change once Robb was nearby. Tyrion took a drink of wine and hoped Joffrey would not ruin his carefully laid plans.

Tyrion turned to his left to see his father and uncle emerge along with Myrcella. She was wearing a beautiful red dress and she looked like she was to be attending a ball, not a joust. Cersei soon followed with a face like thunder and Tyrion guessed what had gone on. Tywin sat down next to Tyrion. "Where is he?"

"He is due here any time now prior to the first joust. I see you have brought Myrcella to…..entice the Wolf Knight?!"

Tywin nodded. "He is not betrothed and they would make a good match."

Cersei quickly interjected "It is not happening! My only daughter is not going to live miles away in the freezing North."

Tyrion noted that Myrcella didn't look as against the idea as her mother was. Tywin glared at Cersei which was enough to stop any rant and she slunk back into her seat. Right on cue Ser Robb and Lady Catelyn emerged. Tyrion waved them over. He noted that whilst Robb looked happy, his mother had an extremely cautious face and was clearly apprehensive about this.

Tyrion stood "Ser Robb Stark, Lord of Winterfell, and Lady Catelyn Stark. Pleasure to see you. Can I introduce to you my Father Lord Tywin Lannister, Hand of the King, my uncle Ser Kevan Lannister, The Queen Regent Cersei Baratheon, my niece the beautiful Princess Myrcella Baratheon and myself Tyrion Lannister."

Ser Robb and Catelyn made all the pleasantries then made their way to the front of the box. Tyrion noted that all eyes in the crowd were on Ser Robb as he approached Joffrey. Ser Robb knelt and Lady Catelyn curtsied before the King, who wielded an malevolent smile. He grabbed the hand of Margaery and yanked her towards him.

"Your Grace."

"Rise Ser Robb. Do you know Lady Margaery?"

Robb smiled "We met briefly on the day of the melee."

"Is Joffrey to be married to Margaery?" Tyrion whispered to Tywin.

"Nothing is decided yet," Tywin responded, "We only have one chance at picking his queen so I will not be rushed into a decision by Olenna Redwyne or anyone."

Joffrey ran his hand softly yet menacingly along her cheek but did not take his eyes off Ser Robb "She is beautiful, a true rose of the Reach. I have the pleasure of her company today so leave us."

Robb quickly left the King and took his seat. In passing he smiled politely at Myrcella who blushed a colour similar to her dress. Catelyn sat down too and also smiled towards Cersei who did not reciprocate.

Tyrion shook his head in disappointment. "How can his sister and nephew be so foolish in affairs of state?!" he thought.

* * *

Tyrion was relieved. The day had gone well and Robb appeared to warm to Tyrion, Tywin and Kevan. Strangely Tywin also appeared to like Robb and he had spent much of the day in conversation with him going through a variety of subjects from battle tactics to affairs of state. Tyrion could not tell if his father was acting or if he did genuinely like the boy but either way relations between the two were better than Tyrion had ever had with Tywin.

As expected, Joffrey had not bothered speaking to Robb and had instead spent the time openly flirting with Margaery, clearly in an attempt to wind up the Northman. If Robb was getting annoyed he did not let it show, though Tyrion noted he did keep sneaking glances over towards where Margaery was sat. Both Tyrion and Tywin had tried guide Robb towards Myrcella but it was clear to both he only had eyes for the Tyrell girl, much to Cersei's obvious relief though her foul mood remained.

Whilst Robb was friendly and chatted freely, Lady Catelyn held her reserve throughout the day. She mainly spoke to Myrcella in a motherly and complimentary fashion and only spoke up to the men to aid and guide Robb when needed. "She is an intelligent woman, not to be underestimated." Tyrion had thought to himself.

The results of the jousting had helped Robb enjoy the day too. Although the Northern captain named Jory had lost a close decision after ten tilts to Ser Beric Dondarrion in the fourth round (a decision that Joffrey loved giving, Tyrion noted), the other participant Robb and Catelyn was supporting had fared much better. Ser Brynden Tully, the Blackfish, had beaten Ser Mandon Moore, Lord Yohn Royce and The Mountain Gregor Clegane to earn a place in the final where he would face his brother Jamie who had just beaten Ser Loras in his semi-final.

"So how do you fancy your uncle's chances against my brother Ser Jamie?" Tyrion had turned and asked Ser Robb.

Robb was noncommittal "It will be a great final. What do you think Lord Tywin?"

Tywin also gave a considered answer "Ser Brynden Tully is a great knight and has jousted excellently today. However I will always back a Lannister."

Robb smiled at this answer and Tyrion was sure he saw his father show the slightest of smiles in return, something as rare as a joke from Stannis Baratheon or an selfless act from Littlefinger. The thought of Petr Baelish made Tyrion realise that his absence from Kings Landing the past month had made the place that little less bit horrid. He was no doubt turning the atmosphere poisonous in the Vale in his time up there wooing Lysa Arryn. Tyrion was sure the raven would come any day now asking permission to marry Lysa. "Littlefinger is more predictable than he thinks he actually is." Tyrion smiled to himself.

Varys was more of a mystery. He had shown a surprising lack of interest in the Stark boy and his mother, in fact as far as Tyrion was aware he had not spoken a single word to them. According to Tywin the Spider's appearances at the small council meetings continued but he was much more introverted and he seemed to say nothing unless prompted, a far cry from his usual behaviour. Tyrion knew that if you started not to notice Varys then it meant he was able to use his abilities better, meaning he was a far more dangerous opponent. Some people's allegiance was clear, like Pycelle (House Lannister) and Littlefinger (himself), but as for Varys... Tyrion still had no idea who he was loyal to, if anyone. Tyrion thought it was strange an effeminate eunuch gave him more sleepless nights that any warrior or sellsword he had ever encountered.

Tyrion left his thoughts and turned to listen to his father speaking to Ser Robb. They were discussing titles.

"It is true Ser Robb that there are not many Lords who have been knighted as well, myself included." Tywin stated

"But should I go by the title of Lord or Ser?" Robb asked in earnest

Tywin gave his answer some thought "It is a matter of personal choice. But why not both? Ser Robb Stark, Lord of Winterfell sounds fitting to me."

Catelyn spoke up "You knighthood will not be as valued when we return North. Maybe you should just keep to Lord Robb Stark."

Tywin coldly looked at Catelyn before responding "Maybe, but never let your people forget you earned a knighthood at a young age through your own skill with a blade, just as your uncle Ser Brynden Tully did. Some will begrudge your Lordship as you were born into it but no-one can say anything of the sort about your knighthood."

Robb appeared to take this in. Tyrion smiled in respect of Lord Tywin. Lady Catelyn was a clever woman but his father was truly a master manipulator, knowing exactly what to say to get someone's attention. Tyrion's main concern was what would happen when Robb returned up North with his mother as the only influencing voice in his ear.

Tyrion spoke up "Ser Robb, it is Prince Tommen's nameday in three months time and there is likely to be another tournament to celebrate. I hope you are planning to attend as I am sure the people would love to see the Wolf Knight compete in another melee, not to mention the young prince himself who is a big fan of yours."

Robb ignored the audible scoff coming from Joffrey and responded "I would like that very much Tyrion."

Lady Catelyn quickly interjected "We will have to confirm nearer the time via raven. I'm hopeful Robb will be able to attend but it is entirely dependent on whether there are any urgent issues that demand his attention in the North."

Tyrion was ready to respond when everyone's attention was taken by the sound of the trumpets, announcing the start of the final of the joust. Tyrion turned to see his brother emerge on his horse, wearing his Kingsguard armour though wielding a shield depicting a golden lion of the Lannisters. He looked majestic on his horse, like a fabled knight from a young maid's tale, and the crowd went cheered loudly, led by Cersei who beamed at her twin. He was followed by the Blackfish, riding a tall dark stallion. His armour was solid but looked very worn and had only been lightly cleaned prior to this contest. His shield was dirty and had a massive dent in the middle, a reminder of his semi-final against The Mountain. Regardless he still looked an imposing sight and Robb and his mother clapped his arrival with fury.

When Robb sat down Tyrion turned to him "Are you a gambling man Ser Robb?"

"Not really I'm afraid, never had an interest in losing money."

Tyrion smiled "Then how about we wager something else Ser Robb?!"

He looked intrigued "Go on then Tyrion, you have my attention."

Tyrion continued "If Ser Jamie wins then you shall attend Prince Tommen's nameday tourney and can participate in as many or as few events as you wish. If your uncle Ser Brynden wins then I shall press you no further on this and I will personally attend your nameday feast in nine months at Winterfell, accompanied with a gift befitting a knight. Do we have a wager?"

Robb shook Tyrion's hand firmly before Lady Catelyn had chance to object. Tyrion caught his father's eye and received a small look that he interpreted as esteem for his actions. He settled back and watched the his brother and Ser Brynden charged at each other for the first tilt. There was an almighty clash of metal but both men remained on their horse and carried on. The second tilt yielded the same result and the crowd applauded both men and they readied themselves for a third tilt. Both men struck their horse and thundered towards their opponent, lances at the ready. As they met in the middle there was a much quieter noise. Tyrion watched as Jamie moved his lance to pass The Blackfish's shield and catch him square in the chest, resulting in him falling from his horse with a heavy crash in the mud. Tyrion smiled and found himself clapping and cheering Jamie – the winner of the joust for King Joffrey's nameday.

Jamie approached the grounded Blackfish, who had just sat himself up in the dirt. He removed his helmet, letting his blonde hair flow and spoke for all to hear "Ser Brynden, you fought excellently today. It has been an honour to ride against you, a true knight of the realm."

Ser Brynden pulled himself up to his feet "No Ser Jamie it is you who rode excellently today. I thank you for your kind words. Congratulations!" He shook Jamie's hand and the gesture received rapturous applause for those watching. Tyrion remembered that growing up his brother idolised knights like the Blackfish, Barristan Selmy and Arthur Dayne so his words were genuine.

As Jamie moved to the royal box and placed the crown of blue roses on Cersei, Robb turned to Tyrion "I guess I will be back to Kings Landing in three months."

Tyrion smiled in acknowledgement and thought of his brother, currently looking full of happiness as he received the roar of the crowd and displayed Cersei as his queen of love and beauty. "My brother Jamie," he thought to himself, "always a winning wager."


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer – If you recognise it then it belongs to GRRM

Theon II

Pyke was cold, damp and windy. There was no two ways about it. Theon couldn't remember why he had such fond memories of the place. "I guess I had romanticised it." He thought with glaring realisation.

After the long voyage he had only been met at the docks by his uncle Aeron and even that shaggy priest did not really treat him as a Greyjoy. After that he had rode to Pyke with Esgred….Asha really. Theon nearly retched when he thought about what she did and what he did to her on that horse.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" He asked her at the time when she revealed her true self.

She just laughed at him "I wanted to see what sort of man you were brother."

"And?" Theon had asked her

"I was asking the wrong question. I should have been asking what sort of boy you are." With that she walked off chuckling to herself, leaving Theon both infuriated and humiliated.

Even now he was still angry at Asha. "She must be jealous that I am home and she will no longer be father's favourite." He thought to himself as he dressed. Although Balon Greyjoy had not yet come to meet Theon since his return, he was sure that they would have chance to talk at the homecoming feast in his honour. He was not sure how he would broach the subject of going to Kings Landing to pledge fealty to his father but he had an idea. If Balon was to appoint Theon as his Hand, a position that has never existed amongst the Ironborn, as well as acknowledge him as his heir then Theon could return to Kings Landing to pledge fealty, saving his father the ignominy of having to bend the knee in person. He believed that would be acceptable to the throne so it is a win-win situation.

Theon finished dressing and went to his case. He reached into an inner pocket and pulled out a long gold chain with a Kraken pendent, both eyes small red gems. It was a present for his eighteenth nameday from Tyrion and he put it on fondly remembering the kindnesses that the Imp had shown him whilst he was a hostage. He hoped that one day Tyrion could come visit him at the Iron Islands, though he knew this was an unlikely scenario as a dwarf is considered less than a thrall in their culture. Theon knew he would never wish to submit Tyrion to that level of scorn.

Theon crossed the room to the mirror and looked at the bruise on his head. It was starting to fade but was still visible. He brushed his hair forward to cover this dark patch on his forehead, wincing as his head touched the still tender area. He still felt such an fool about his first round elimination in the joust. The Blackfish was a famous but older knight and Theon had thought that with a spectacular and convincing win, he could finally get some respect in the capital. Instead he ended up in the mud as a laughing stock.

He left his room and set off towards the main hall where the feast was to take place. It was a long walk, as Theon was placed in chambers near the base of the Sea Tower. He had to cross three bridges in order to reach the Great Keep and the ferocious wind and rain meant he was soaked wet and freezing cold by the time he reached the main hall. As her got closer he heard the sound of laughter and song, meaning the feast had gotten underway in his absence. He steeled himself and stormed in, heading straight for the top table. It had not changed its position in the room from what he remembered as a child. He saw his father sat in the seat of honour and, much to his disgust, Asha had taken the seat to Balon's right – HIS seat. Theon walked with purpose and stood opposite his father.

"Father."

Balon looked up from his meat and looked Theon up and down. He had clearly aged yet he still looked a fierce warrior. The wrinkles on his forehead looked like an armour plate and jaw still appeared solid enough to crack a rock. His hair was just as long though it had turned a milky white colour as opposed to the light brown from his younger days. He gave Theon a look of sheer disappointment before simply replying "Theon" and returning to his food.

Theon turned to Asha who smiled mockingly at him "You are in my seat sister."

"I think not."

"But this feast is in my honour so I sh-"

Balon interrupted him and spoke savagely "This feast is certainly not in your honour Theon. No go sit down there where I don't have to look at you."

The hall erupted in laughter and Theon trudged away towards an empty seat near the door he had just entered. He was swiftly brought food and ale by a thrall, though he no longer had any real appetite. Tyrion had warned him before his departure that he may not be welcomed back with open arms but Theon had not really believed it would be the case. He started to pick at his food as he looked around the great hall. He identified numerous Houses in attendance, including Houses Harlaw, Drumm, Botley, Blacktyde, Goodbrother, Saltcliffe and Stonehouse. He also spotted his uncle Victarion sat close to the top table. He caught his uncle's eye and was acknowledged with a slight nod by the Lord Captain of the Iron Fleet. Theon also searched the room for his uncle Euron but could not see him or any of his known crew. Not that this bothered Theon, from a young age he realised that uncle Euron was completely insane and someone to keep away from if you value your life.

Whilst it was now quite apparent that this was not a feast to welcome Theon home, he wondered what was the purpose of this. To gather some many of the major Ironborn houses under one was no easy task and seldom occurred unless something of importance was to take place.

"Theon!"

He was brought out of his thoughts by the shout from his sister. He looked up to see she was beckoning him with a belittling tap on the table. He got up slowly and made his way to the top table. He could hear the sniggering of the other captains as he walked and it reminded him of his time at the court of King Robert where he would be a figure of ridicule.

He stood there and faced his father and sister again. Asha displayed a wide smile though Theon knew it was laced with malice. However it was his father who spoke up "The necklace you wear. Did you buy it or did you pay the iron price?"

"What?"

"It is a simple question boy - did you pay for it with your Greenland golden dragons or did you pay the iron price?"

Theon fingered at the necklace in nervousness but eventually admitted "It was a gift."

The hall erupted in laughter except for Balon who looked nothing short of disgusted. He stood and leaned over the table ripping the chain from his neck in a savage swipe. He threw the chain away and spoke sharply "Then it is worthless."

As Balon sat back down, Asha spoke up. Despite her attractive face and figure, she spoke with a gruff voice that reminded Theon of his brother Maron. "Please tell dear brother, who gave you the gift?"

Theon knew he could not tell the truth "Some Lord's daughter who took a liking to me after I fucked her senseless."

Asha smiled suggesting she knew it was a lie but continued "You must be an object of lust for many a girl in Kings Landing with your pretty robes and shiny bought jewels. Luckily for you they don't give much thought to a man's ability to fight eh?!"

"I can fight sister. I enter jousts and only last week I came second in an archery contest." Theon quickly retorted only to be met with more laughter which only ceased as Balon spoke.

"Asha tell your brother what you did last week."

"Of course father. Last week I claimed three merchant ships and twenty thralls for the Iron Islands, killing nine men with my blade in the process."

Balon spoke with venom to Theon "Whilst you were playing with your fellow greenlanders, your sister was following the old ways - killing and taking from those weaker, reaving and plundering all across the known world. You are no longer one of us, you are one of them."

Theon was upset by this and protested "Father I am your son, your only living son, and your heir. I am still an Ironborn and I always have been."

Balon shook his head in disagreement "Why are you here then? Is it to request my presence at Kings Landing to bend the knee to a boy?"

Theon did not answer but the look he involuntarily showed answered his father's question. Balon scowled "I will not bend the knee. You are stupid for thinking I ever would."

"You kneeled for King Robert."

Theon regretted saying it as soon as the words left his lips. An eerie silence filled the room, rippling with tension. Theon looked at his father who glared back at him, jaw clenched, eyes fixed on Theon's full of roaring rage. Swiftly Balon rose and moved round the table. Approaching Theon he grabbed him by the neck, gripping hard so that his nails dug into his flesh and he struggled to breathe. Theon wanted to fight back but he was unable to move and just continued to look into furious dark eyes of his father.

After what seemed an eternity Balon released Theon though he did not break eye contact.. It took all of Theon's strength not to fall to the floor in exhaustion from his strangulation. Suddenly Balon moved quickly towards a thrall serving ale and punched him straight in the jaw. Theon heard the sickening snap of bone and watched as the thrall, a tall black man from somewhere distant, hit the floor hard. Balon continued his assault on the prone body with a series of vicious kicks to the man's head. These continued long after the man was clearly dead. Eventually Balon stopped and turned to lock eyes with Theon again. He spoke with purpose "If you speak of that again then I will do this to you and not some thrall, Greyjoy or not. It is to my eternal shame that I knelt before that man when I should have refused and let him take my head instead. I will not kneel to his son, the Iron Islands will not kneel to the throne."

He walked away from Theon back round to his seat at the table though he did not sit. He spoke loudly so all could hear "We will break away from the rule of Greenlanders and restore the ways of old, the ways of Harren the Black and House Hoare, THE WAYS OF THE IRON ISLANDS!"

The hall cheered and banged in support of their king. Even Theon felt a shiver up his spine as he watched his father command the respect and admiration of fierce captains despite his advanced years. He knew then in that moment that he couldn't go back to Kings Landing and be the Theon that rode horses in tourneys, visited Chataya's, read books and knelt before the iron throne. He wanted to be the Theon he was always destined to be – a reaver, pillaging, killing and fucking across Westeros and beyond. He knew he could show his father, Asha and the rest that he was a true Ironborn warrior, worthy of their respect.

Balon continued "The first rebellion started with a raid of Lannisport and this one will do too – but with a twist. We will not just settle for burning the Lion's fleet at anchor, we will take the port and the castle that overlooks it. That's right, we will take Casterly Rock and all the treasures within. This will be our statement of intent and our "fuck you" to the boy king and his Hand."

The men banged and cheered further.

Balon turned to Theon "You say you are one of us. Well you are going to prove it boy as you will be captain of a ship involved in this attack."

Theon stood proud "Yes Father, I would be honoured."

Balon responded bluntly "Don't be honoured boy, just don't let me down or I'll kill you myself."

As the men cheered wildly and toasted to his father, Theon's thoughts turned to his only friend Tyrion. The irony wasn't lost on him that by doing this he would be losing his only true friend he had ever know. He hoped that this feeling of guilt would dissipate sooner rather than later as it currently was tearing him apart inside.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer - if you recognise it then it belongs to GRRM.

Tyrion III

He never saw it coming. He had entered the small council chambers and before even saying a word, a blur of red and gold moved towards him swiftly and he was pinned up against the wall. He looked down into the clear green eyes of his father.

"What did you know?" Tywin barked at him.

Tyrion had no idea what was going on. "Is this the proper way to treat your newly appointed Master of Coin?"

"Did you know Imp?"

"I have no idea what the fuck you are talking about father. Now put me down!"

Tywin maintained his stare then eventually dropped Tyrion to the floor, seemingly satisfied he was speaking the truth. He stormed back to his seat at the table whilst Tyrion got up from the floor and dusted himself off. He made his way to the table and sat down in a vacant seat next to Varys who wore vibrant pink robes that was outlandish even for the eunuch though his face was completely serious. Also sat at the table was the Master of Laws Renly Baratheon, Grand Maester Pycelle, the Queen Regent Cersei and Ser Kevan, who had no small council role but often advised when requested by Tywin. Joffrey was no doubt out hunting with the Hound as usual. This was Tyrion's first small council meeting since he was made Master of Coin after Littlefinger's not so surprising request to remain in the Vale and marry the widowed Lysa Arryn. Tyrion assumed his own ascension to the small council was a sort of reward from his father for his skilful dealings with Ser Robb Stark whilst he was at Kings Landing.

"So what in the seven hells is all this about?" Tyrion asked earnestly.

"The Ironborn have captured Lannisport and now lay siege to Casterly Rock." Tywin spoke plainly.

Tyrion was shocked "What...how?"

Kevan spoke up "This morning the Iron Fleet entered the port en mass and overwhelmed the defences. They didn't just raid and leave though, they landed and have taken control of Lannisport. They have used their ships to block the harbour and have secured the city. What is left of the city guard have retreated to Casterly Rock to secure it for as long as possible whilst the Ironmen lay siege."

"The Ironborn don't lay siege, they just keep attacking and attacking till they storm the gates and take the city." Renly interjected.

Tyrion said nothing as he tried to take all this in. The Ironborn had done nothing this audacious for hundreds of years. They have always raided but never conquered anywhere, especially not Lannister land. Eventually he asked a question "How did you learn of this?"

Kevan answered "We got a raven from Ser Devan who has taken control at Casterly Rock. His father, my cousin, Ser Stafford was the castellan but he died in the fighting in Lannisport. He believes they can only hold the Rock for three days before they will be overrun."

"Ser Devan also sent word that Theon Greyjoy was seen among the Ironborn attackers."

Tywin's words were clearly aimed at Tyrion and the whole small council seemed to turn and look at him with suspicion. Tyrion was taken aback, both by the accusation and by Theon's involvement.

"If you are suggesting I have told Theon anything that would aid their attack, or that I had any idea of their plans, then you don't know me at all."

"He gave you no clue of this plan?" asked Cersei.

"Not even when you were out drinking and whoring?" Pycelle added unhelpfully.

"No. I can't believe he would do this." Tyrion responded and he meant it truly.

"Well he has and there are numerous dead Lannister men to prove it." Tywin retorted.

Tyrion knew by his tone that his father was deeply worried. Losing Lannisport was a disaster, it was a vital port and much trade and mined gold passed through there, but his father's main fear was for Casterly Rock to be sacked and conquered. Regardless of the valuables and wealth that would be taken, Tyrion knew it was the shame of losing the seat of House Lannister to "pirates" that his father feared most of all. Tywin's pride may not be able to handle it. The Rock had never fallen but Tyrion was aware, just as Tywin was, that by controlling Lannisport the only safe road to the fortress was now available to the Ironborn so they could attack in large numbers, safe in the knowledge no-one was able to come to Casterly Rock's aid without firstly taking back Lannisport which is no easy task with his high solid walls.

Tyrion knew discussing blame was futile at this point so he thought of solutions. He asked "So what can we do? Has the Royal fleet set sail for Lannisport?"

Renly answered "They are currently en route to Dragonstone to arrest Stannis and bring him to the capital to explain his lack of acknowledgement of our new king. We won't be able to contact them for at least two days yet and even then they wouldn't be able to get to Lannisport for at least two weeks."

Tyrion thought it ironic that the Royal fleet was being sent to arrest the Master of Ships but said nothing on the matter. Instead he turned to an empty seat "So land it is then. I assume my brother is marching as we speak along with other Kingsguard."

"He is to leave in the hour." Kevan confirmed.

"So what of the remaining Lannister army. How quickly can they be assembled and get to Lannisport?"

Before he even said a word Tyrion knew the news was not good by the look on Kevan's face "Our troops are currently scattered. Some are in Kings Landing, some currently march to Dragonstone and the rest are at their own respective Keeps. We have sent word to all in the vicinity to get to Lannisport but the only noteworthy warrior to speak of is Ser Gregor Clegane."

"So you are telling me we cannot raise an army in time to take back the city?! Incredible…. Father, what about that Sellsword company in your employ - the Brave Companions. Can they not be used?" Tyrion enquired.

"If I want a place crushed and reduced to ash, I use Vargo Hoat and his merry bunch of animals. Using them to reclaim Lannisport would only result in destruction. Besides they are currently indisposed in Essos looking after our interests near Braavos"

Tyrion racked his mind for inspiration. "So we are reliant on the assistance of others. With so many people returning to their homes after the King's nameday tourney who can get there in time...Ser Robb Stark! He sho-"

Tywin interrupted angrily "Ser Robb has already been contacted near Pinkmaiden on his way back to Winterfell and he now takes his men, plus those available from the Riverlands, to Lannisport as we speak. It is only a small force but it can keep the Ironborn to their current position and no further into the Westerlands, though there is no chance they could mount any effort in breaking the siege of Casterly Rock or reclaiming Lannisport. He has been instructed to hold position till Jamie and the rest arrive. I have thought of everything Tyrion, EVERYTHING!"

"But the Rock!" Tyrion was aghast.

The silence was deafening. Eventually Tywin spoke solemnly "Nothing can be done for Casterly Rock. We must hope that Ser Devan is able to hold out for longer than he predicted. There is nothing more to be said."

With that Tywin stood and left the small council chambers followed closely by Kevan.

"I guess that is the end of this meeting." Renly spoke matter of factly. He left the room along with Pycelle and Varys, whom Tyrion noted again was unusually quiet. He wondered if his little birds had given Varys any knowledge of this plan or if even Varys' network did not travel as far as the Iron Islands. Only Cersei now remained with Tyrion.

"Father is heartbroken. The Rock is a symbol of Lannister strength and power. The thought of those Ironborn ravaging her is killing him inside." Cersei stated, using more her usual level of insight Tyrion acknowledged.

"We will all be heartbroken should she fall." Tyrion replied, the sadness filling his voice unashamedly. What he wouldn't admit to Cersei or anyone was the heartbreak was not just for his ancestral home but for Theon.

Tyrion could not comprehend what had happened to Theon in the short period since he left the capital. Tyrion wanted him to fit in with his people but not like this. Did he ever care for Tyrion like he did for him? Or was it all an act? Or is this just revenge against those who mistreated him in the capital? The questions kept coming but no answers ever followed. Confusion reigned in his head and only sadness existed in his heart. Casterly Rock and his friend Theon - he had good memories of both but now he had a sick feeling that both would be beyond repair and were lost to him forever.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer – if you recognise it then it belongs to GRRM

Catelyn III

Considering the reputation of the Iron Islands Catelyn was relieved to see that Lannisport was not fully ablaze. From her viewpoint on the brow of the hill next to their camp she could only see a few small fires within the city as those ships burnt at anchor had long since sunk to the bottom of the harbour. The blockade of the harbour entrance was clear to see too – a line of ships anchored together like a wall between the cliff face to the South and the Lannisport lighthouse to the North.

She was also thankful that they only reached the walls of Lannisport a full day since it's fall. The Ironborn's use of women was known to everyone and she imagined the screams would have been harrowing to listen to during the initial wave of Ironborn invasion. She prayed to the Mother for all the women trapped in there with those animals.

Catelyn could see the patrols of the Ironborn atop the walls of Lannisport observing the tents emerging. She could imagine their mocking reaction at the small numbers. With many men deployed elsewhere, plus many Lords in the vicinity reserving their main strength in light of this latest threat from the Iron Islands, there was probably only eight to nine hundred men who now were here, compared to the three thousand Iron Islanders. It's no wonder Tywin's raven, received as they passed through Pinkmaiden, sounded desperate as the situation certainly was. It was for that reason that Robb brought Catelyn with him as he decided he could not spare the men to accompany her back to Winterfell.

Robb stood a few feet to her left, surveying the same scene. Though he had not said it, he had a brooding look like he was deep in thought and Catelyn knew she was best not disturbing him with any conversation. The way he looked reminded her of Brandon, her first betrothed. To her internal shame Catelyn had far more memories of Brandon than her late husband Eddard. Whilst she knew this was not her fault, it still did not feel right.

The worst thing was when Robb as a young boy asked her about his father and what he was like. Catelyn did not know how best to describe Eddard so instead she thought of Brandon.

"Your father was a strong man, an excellent warrior."

"Tell me more!" the five year old Robb had exclaimed whilst hopping onto her lap.

"Oh he had a temper but that came from being a passionate man. He was brave, courageous and noble. But he did enjoy to feast and fight as well. You'll grow up just like him Robb, I am sure." She replied, pulling Robb in close for a cuddle, which he tried but failed to wriggle out of. She hugged him tightly before letting him go run of and play.

"He has grown up to be a true Stark." Catelyn thought to herself, looking at her handsome son who remained in his thoughts. She had never wanted him to be anything else, even if she did wish she was still able to grab him for a hug every now and then.

She wrapped herself tightly in her woollen shawl and turned to re-enter the relative warmth of the tent. Various men were cramped around the table showing a map of Lannisport, debating various tactics. Catelyn could only identify her uncle Brynden, Torrhen Karstark, Perwyn Frey, Daryn Hornwood, Jory Cassel, the huge Gregor Clegane, Clement Piper, Leo Lefford, Rolph Spicer and Seffon Stackspear, with the rest a mystery to her. There was a myriad of reasons for these men being here on behalf of Tywin Lannister – loyalty, honour, revenge, possible rewards. Brynden was leading the debate and preventing it getting too heated when it threatened to boil over. A mixture of warriors from noble houses of the Westerlands, Riverlands and the North would always have the possibility of erupting.

"The only option we have is to storm the gates." Leo Lefford opined, the response to this being a sigh from the whole table.

A short stocky man wearing the colours of House Prester responded "You think we have not tried?! Every attack on the gates has been easily repelled. They are too well built to knock through."

Brynden spoke calmly but with authority "Ser Forley is correct and I am loathed to continue to risk men's lives in testing this, although if you wish to do so yourself Lord Lefford then feel free." The rebuke caused Leo Lefford to shift back slowly from the table, put in his place.

Brynden continued "We don't have the option of storming the gates so we must think of something else, unless we are just willing to sit and hold position whilst innocent people are dying."

"Lord Tywin did ask us just to hold our position." Rolph Spicer responded, much to the fury of Brynden.

"So you would be willing to sit back and make daisy chains whilst women are raped, men are killed and children are sent to Pyke as thralls? We may not be able to find a way through but I'll be damned if I don't try come up with something."

"They have not sent any thralls back to the Iron Islands though as they are blockading the harbour so no ships can enter or leave." Rolph answered meekly, taken aback by Brynden's reaction.

"Yes because they expect the royal fleet to be arriving here any day now. Once they figure out that is not going to happen how long do you think it will be before they start taking thralls and salt wives back home? Not very fucking long I tell you Spicer. Speak like that again and I'll personally throw you over the wall for the Ironborn to do with as they see fit."

Catelyn had not often seen Brynden react with anger like that but she knew he hated cowardice and those who do not protect the innocent more than anything. Rolph Spicer was unfortunate enough to display a mixture of both and had rightly received the appropriate chastising.

Torrhen cleared his throat and spoke "How about climbing the walls using rope? Ser Rodrik and Domeric Bolton is currently scouting the walls for a suitable place."

"It would probably not be possible. There is little for a hook to latch onto, plus the height of the walls mean it would be very risky for whoever was to scale the walls." Clement Piper replied.

"I would be willing to do it." Torrhen answered.

"Even if you could get over, I don't think a green boy would be able to do much against the Ironborn" a tall man wearing the colours of what Catelyn thought was House Drax spoke dismissively.

Torrhen clearly took offense "This green boy knocked your pathetic arse into the dirt ten minutes into the melee at Kings Landing. So you are in no position to decree who could do what in a fight against the Iron Islanders."

The tall man sneered and aggressively responded "That was a tourney boy, out there is the real world of fighting. I should drag you out this tent and give you a beating to show you the difference."

Torrhen's hand reached for his sword hilt "Just you try fucker and they'll be one less man for the ironborn to fear."

As more voices were raised and tempers flared Catelyn feared she should leave straight away. However before the whole tent imploded into a brawl, Ser Gregor banged the table with his mailed fist and shouted "ENOUGH." This was enough to silence all men.

"All this is making my head hurt. Lord Tywin wants a solution so fucking think of one."

Catelyn looked at the colossus of a man as he rubbed his head, seemingly repressing a headache. She had heard the rumours, that had been all but confirmed, about Ser Gregor's part in the sack of Kings Landing and his role in the deaths of Elia Martell and her newborn son Aegon. Other tales of his brutality had also spread throughout the Seven Kingdoms, some of which made Catelyn feel sick at the very thought of them. Numerous murders and rapes – Catelyn thought it a miracle he had not had his head on the block by now. Surely it must only be the protection of Tywin Lannister that prevents this, the reason for Ser Gregor's strong alliance to the Head of House Lannister. Though he was a knight he found him more scary than any criminal, wildling or sellsword she had ever encountered. She remembered watching her uncle jousting against Ser Gregor last week and the force with which he drove his lance seemed inhuman. It was a miracle Brynden managed to withstand his strikes and remain on his horse. During that joust was the only time Catelyn had feared for her uncle's safety in the entirety of the Kings nameday tourney.

"How much rope do we have?"

The small voice came from the edge of the tent. Catelyn turned to see Robb had finished his silent thinking and was now stood at the entrance. He stared at Torrhen, looking for the answer to his question.

"Err...about fifty feet."

Robb stepped further into the tent "Good. Then there is a way we can retake Lannisport and break the siege of Casterly Rock tonight. Though it is not without risks."

The men all waited in silence as Robb continued on. He may have only been fifteen years old but he commanded respect like a seasoned warrior of double that age. "We cannot go over the walls but using the rope we can abseil down the cliff face onto one of the Ironborn boats that block the harbour. From there we can move into the city."

As some of the men started to speak, Robb raised his hand to silence them. "Let me finish. I'm not suggesting we send an entire attack force down the rope, but a small number of men whose task is to stealthily reach and open the southern gate without alerting the Ironborn. Our main force can wait under cover of darkness outside the gate ready to be let into Lannisport."

The men seemed to think over Robb's plan and from what Catelyn could see it was being well received on the whole.

Lord Lefford was the first to speak "You mentioned we could also break the siege of Casterly Rock."

"The key to this whole plan is stealth. Once our army is in Lannisport we need to move quickly but silently through the city. We should be able to take care of those Ironborn guarding Lannisport as the bulk of the invaders are now focused on the glory of taking Casterly Rock."

Brynden looked intrigued "Go on Ser Robb."

Robb gave Brynden a slight nod then carried on "If we take our force up the safe road then we can trap the Iron Islanders between ourselves and the actual walls of the Rock where their greater numbers will hinder rather than help them. They'll be getting in each other's way whilst we press them back with our surprise attack. We should be able to pick them off with relative ease."

The overall consensus from the group was positive, especially after Brynden gave the plan his approval. However the man from House Drax asked the question that Catelyn suspected many of the men truly wanted answering "So who is going to be descending the cliff face?"

Robb looked sternly around the table before answering "It is a dangerous mission I won't lie, full of peril. That's why I'll be leading the infiltration team myself."

Before Catelyn had chance to register Brynden quickly added "And I will be there right by your side."

The breath seemed to leave Catelyn as she realised her son and uncle were both going to actually do this. It took all of her strength not to cry out and try stop this. But she said nothing and started to pray in her head, no doubt the first of many tonight.

No other commanders were forthcoming though some nominated their men in their stead. Robb was now clearly leading this war council and he gave out specific instructions to all the men. Catelyn could see that Torrhen, Daryn and Perwyn were keen to join Robb but he pre-empted their request with one of his own to join Ser Gregor in leading the main force outside the gate. "I need men I can trust in that position." He had told them discretely, however Catelyn was sure he did not want to risk their lives any more than he had to.

He ended by addressing them all "Remember our key to victory is stealth. No torches, drums or shouting. We want to catch these ironborn by surprise and send these animals back to whatever barren excuse of a home they came from. Now go inform the men of their orders, but do it subtly as we do now want to inform anyone watching that we are up to something. We will move under the cover of darkness, which is in three hours time so ensure you are ready."

As the others moved off to prepare Robb remained in the tent with Brynden. When they were finally alone Catelyn moved towards them swiftly and grabbed both their arms roughly "What are you thinking? There is no need to risk your lives like this!"

"Mother," Robb spoke softly and rubbed her hand gently, "We must try to help those people trapped in there, it is the right thing to do. Plus Lord Tywin has been good to us and now it is our duty to return the favour. He would do the same for us."

Before Catelyn could whole heartedly disagree, Robb brought her into his chest with a warm embrace. She held him back in return and for a small second it was like being back at Winterfell with her small boy. He kissed her forehead softly and whispered "I love you Mother" before running off to get himself ready. The tears welled in her eyes and she turned and grabbed Brynden tightly, pulling her head up so their eyes met.

"Bring my son back to me alive, that is all that matters."


	13. Chapter 13

_Apologies if some of this chapter is a bit disturbing – I'm trying to capture the harsh reality of the Ironborn culture._

_I promise a Jon chapter is coming next – I was holding it off to try get the timings of the different storylines in this as near as possible to the books._

Disclaimer – If you recognise it then it belongs to GRRM

Theon III

A huge cheer went up as Theon finished. He stood up, reached to his left and grabbed a tankard of ale which he then dispatched in one mighty gulp, finishing with a burp that caused another great cheer. He felt hands of various men slapping his back in congratulations and one particularly foul smelling man put his arm around his shoulder and shouted "Now you are an Ironborn." He began to make his way through the crowd of body that filled the tavern but soon realised as he stumbled that he hadn't pulled his breeches back up.

He turned to look at the girl. She worked here in the tavern and couldn't have been more than sixteen years old. She was quite comely and had a pretty face – well Theon thought it would have been pretty without the black eye he had given her when she was struggling. She now lay crying on the floor where he left her, trying to cover herself up where her shift had been torn. Theon noticed the blood and realised he was her first.

The girl was presented to him by his crew as an "initiation test". He was told in no uncertain terms that he missed such a test growing up as he was in Kings Landing so he needed to do it now if he wanted any respect from his men. They all watched as he fucked her and took her maidenhood on the tavern floor.

"She was lucky to lose it to a Prince of Pyke rather than some common born stableboy or a blacksmith." He thought to himself

"_You're better than this Theon"_

As she was violently grabbed by a Botley who wanted a turn with the girl, Theon turned away and made his way to the door of the tavern.

"Oi Greyjoy, where the fuck are you going?"

Theon turned and shouted back "For a piss, then I'm gonna find me a fuck where there isn't a hundred ugly bastards watching on!"

Theon left just as the cheer to his response died down. The streets of Lannisport were quiet now, though the noise coming from the Ironborn at the walls of Casterly rock could be heard. Theon made his way down a street, twirling a ring he had taken from a man just after he ran him through with his sword, and listened to the bangs and clangs echoing round Lannisport. He had wanted to join the attackers but he had been told in no uncertain terms by Asha that he was to remain in Lannisport to oversee the guarding of the port town. He had objected but seeing as how there was no way the men outside could get in, it meant Theon could drink, relax and fuck as many girls he wanted whilst his sister and uncle spent their time attacking. That girl was the first he had and he was in the mood for more.

"_You're better than this Theon"_

Theon suddenly lurched forward and threw up. It was sudden and violent and he had to lean against a wall, bent over, to recover and catch his breath. Two ironborn walked past him, oblivious to who he was, and laughed at the "lightweight who cannot handle his drink."

Theon knew it wasn't the drink, it was something else. He couldn't get rid of the voice in his head that kept telling him what he was doing was wrong. It was something within Theon that was making him feel this unease.

"_Guilt"_

"But why?" Theon thought to himself as he pulled himself up, "I was a captive at Kings Landing, a hostage of a fat drunk king to ensure my father knew his place. I was treated terribly."

"_But not by everyone."_

Theon thought of Tyrion. Yes the dwarf had shown him kindness but that doesn't balance out the others who treated him as worse than a thrall. He'd once heard grumpy old Stannis Baratheon talk how good deeds don't wash away the bad deeds and this was a perfect example.

"_Really! You are going to reference Stannis Baratheon to win an argument. You're in denial."_

"Denial of what?! I was born an Iron Islander and it's in my blood to be a reaver just like my father."

"_Your blood may be that of the Kraken but did he truly raise you?" _

"He couldn't – I was snatched away from him."

"_That may be but you were raised by a man, someone who was more of a father to you than anyone else before. Someone who taught you, cared for you, loved you…."_

Theon had always considered Tyrion a good friend but as he reflected on their relationship it dawned on Theon that the dwarf had been a father figure to him. Sure as he got older they became more like friends but isn't that supposed to be the case between a father and son? He realised the huge impact that the small man had on his life and he had done it for no other reason that he cared about a boy from another place who was alone in the world.

"_And now you are breaking your "father's" heart by taking part in the conquest of his home, killing men and raping innocent girls. He taught you better than that. He believed you were better than that."_

"Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!" Theon shouted in the street. He thought he was going to be sick again but he managed to hold his stomach. He couldn't stand this – he was trapped between his heritage and his upbringing. He thought his would erupt into flame at any moment with the conflict raging in his body. He started to walk quicker and quicker till he was running down the street. He ran and ran, away from these thoughts, till he reached the walls of Lannisport. He made his way up to the top of the battlements that overlooked the small camp outside the port walls. There were a few men on guard, each looking bored and waiting to be relieved of duty so they could go back to drinking, robbing and raping.

Theon attached his breastplate, made of dark steel emblazoned with the Kraken of House Greyjoy, picked up his bow and walked along the wall. It was a crisp dark night and Theon tried to clear his mind as he walked the high walls. Eventually he came upon Waldon Wynch, Lord of the Iron Holt, who stood motionless overlooking the camp. Theon stood alongside him and asked "You look troubled Lord Wynch, what is it that concerns you?"

He responded dismissively "Shouldn't you be drinking and taking saltwives?"

Theon could feel his temper rising but he managed to keep his cool. "I thought I would come see how our enemies are faring. So I'll ask again what is concerning you Waldon?"

He pointed at the camp "Tell me what you see?"

Theon looked out over the camp situated on a small hill. He could see numerous standards from various Houses including House Piper, Lefford, Doggett, Clegane, Lolliston and even the grey direwolf of House Stark. The torches around the camp flickered in the slight breeze but aside from that it looked still.

"I don't see anything." Theon replied

"Anyone. You don't see anyone."

"So? It's the dead of night, they're sleeping in their tents." Theon questioned, getting annoyed. He didn't know what Waldon was getting at.

"There's always someone up. I've not seen anyone getting up to have a piss, smuggle in a whore or go steal something. It's not right, there's something amiss." Waldon replied with the same look of concern spreading across his face again.

Theon shook his head "You worry too much old man. Those men out there know they can't get in these walls so they are just probably sleeping and waiting for the order that they can go home."

Before Waldon could respond, a sharp zipping noise was heard in the air and Theon turned to see a quarrel protruding through the throat of his companion. Waldon clawed at the arrow briefly, making a horrific gargling noise whilst blood sprayed out the wound, before dropping to his knees dead.

Theon quickly ducked behind the wall and looked out through the gaps towards the fields surrounding Lannisport. He scouted around, taking care to keep his head out of clear sight, but could not see any archers or even any men at all near enough the walls to have fired the killer blow. His heart was racing as he swiftly drew his own arrow and readied his bow, but he still was unable to see a single soul outside the walls. He looked at the corpse of Waldon, blood still pouring out of his neck.

It was then he realised the arrow head was at the front of his body, so the arrow came from behind them, from WITHIN Lannisport. He scurried over to the other side of the battlements and looked over to the streets. Men in full armour were running through the streets surprisingly quietly, hacking through any Ironborn they were coming across. The panic tore through Theon. "How the fuck did they get in?" he asked himself. He went to run towards the guards he passed but saw that some men in armour had already made their way onto the wall and were proceeding to kill all the unsuspecting guards. He watched as a guard fully asleep was decapitated by a man wearing the colours of House Stackspear whilst another was stabbed by three different men before he had chance to even raise his own sword.

They spotted Theon and ran towards him. Theon quickly fired off three arrows, each taking down a man, but he was completely outnumbered so he turned and fled, descending the stairs back to the streets of Lannisport. He ran quickly, avoiding the wild swipe of an axe from a man in House Piper colours, and made for a small side street. He could hear the clanking armour of men pursuing him but he dared not look back in case it slowed him down. He was always swift of foot so he was confident he would be able to lose the men chasing him. He hurdled a dead body and turned the corner. He could hear the men chasing were losing ground.

Suddenly a savage pain shot through his leg and he hit the floor. Though he was dazed he tried to stand up but was unable, a result of the quarrel that was currently sticking through his calf muscle. He heard his chasers getting closer again and he reached for his bow, dropped as a result of his fall. But before he could grasp it in his head he was hit on the back of the head with the flat of a sword and everything went black.

"Ser Gregor is leading the charge up to Casterly Rock."

"Ser Devan has left the Rock to aid our men, we have them trapped."

"Go burn any of their ships in the harbour, let's make sure they can't flee."

"We found all the captured children in a school, they are all safe now."

He wasn't sure he long he was unconscious but he heard various glimpses of conversation as he was being dragged around, or at least that's what it felt like. When Theon finally opened his eyes he realised he was in the same street as the tavern he was in earlier. He was lying on the floor, hand bound behind his back, and armoured men were stood all around him in conversation. His vision was still clearing when he was dragged to his knees. The man who did shouted "Ser Robb, the Greyjoy boy is awake."

Theon looked up and met the cold grey eyes of the Wolf Knight. His armour was heavily bloodstained and his head had a slight cut just below his right eye. He was soon other men wearing a the colours and sigils of a variety of noble houses. All men looked sombre and Theon observed that a few of them appeared to have been crying, Ser Robb included. As Theon's sight returned to normal he noticed one of the men surrounding him was the knight who humiliated him at the joust, Ser Brynden Tully. Theon started to laugh at the absurdity of it all – less than a month ago he was entering tourneys against the same man who now faced him and likely wanted to kill him.

"Something funny Greyjoy?" Ser Robb barked at him.

Theon coughed out his reply "Not really, just strange how time moves so fast."

"Maybe this will make you laugh." Ser Robb pointed him in the direction of a corpse to his left. Though the head was missing, Theon could recognise the armour of his uncle Victarion. "Ser Brynden duelled your uncle and took his head. I'd also like to show you your sister's corpse but it's somewhere near the bottom of the harbour so I cannot. She went overboard trying to flee Lannisport."

A young man showing the sigil of House Frey interjected "I hear drowning is the worst way to die. It's slow and agonising, nothing that the bitch didn't deserve."

Strangely Theon felt nothing at the deaths of his uncle and sister. Clearly Ser Robb wanted to see him suffer but Theon couldn't summon up anything in the way of emotion. He just continued to stare at the body of Victarion before eventually turning to Ser Robb and smiling. Almost instantly the mailed fist of the Stark boy crashed into Theon's cheek. He slumped forward but the man behind continued to hold him upright. Ser Robb grabbed Theon by the jaw and brought his face right into Theon's.

"You turncloak piece of shit," Robb spat at him, "You killed someone who was like a brother to me tonight, shot him down with one of your arrows on the battlements. For that, and all of the crimes of your family and the Ironborn scum who follow them, I sentence you to death. Torrhen, Perwyn, hold him down."

Theon couldn't resist as the two boys held him down on a stone. He heard the unsheathing of what sounded like a greatsword. He felt the cold steel kiss the back of his neck then raise upwards.

Robb spoke firmly but with clear hints of sadness "For Daryn."

As the sword arched down, Theon heard that voice in his head say one last thing. For once he agreed with it.

"_You deserved this end."_


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer – If you recognise it then it belongs to GRRM

Jon III

"She summoned her dragons to burn down the House of the Undying when they wouldn't submit to her."

"No, I heard from a civic guard that the Warlocks tried to steal the dragons so she set the Dothraki savages on them and burnt the Palace of Dust as a warning to others who had designs on her "babies". She is the Mother of Dragons after all."

"Well a sailor from the Summer Isles told me that he saw, with his very own eyes, the Targaryen girl breathe fire herself to set the House ablaze. When a warlock attacked her with a knife, she ripped off his head and fed him to the dragons. He swore on the lives of his seven children that this was the truth."

Jon listened to the three old crones gossip about the events of the past three days. It was all everyone talked about and he understood why. The Warlocks were feared by most people and the House of the Undying was seen as their base of power, a place where no-one ever returned from. Yet now it was destroyed. He turned to look towards where the House of the Undying could previously have been seen, instead now only thin wisps of dark smoke from the ruins rose above the skyline, almost like the power of the Warlocks slowly dissipating in the ether. The fire had raged for nearly two days and it took the combined efforts of all the guilds and the city watch to extinguish the flames.

Now the people had converted their fear of the Warlocks to the Targaryen girl instead. The excited fervour of her arrival had now changed into trepidation. She still attracted the same audience when she travelled through the city but now it was almost in scared reverence as opposed to childlike wonderment.

However Jon could not think of her like that. He remembered that one brief occasion when their eyes met. He was making his way back home and he was bustled out the street by her Dothraki bodyguards who paved her way to the Spicer's guild. Jon had been forced to climb a pillar to avoid getting crushed in the human stampede that followed her and he had watched as she passed. She wore a light red dress in the Qartheen style, exposing her right breast, and her white blonde hair flowed gently down her back. Her beauty was apparent for all to see and Jon thought then he had never seen a more beautiful girl in all his years alive.

For no reason she looked up towards where Jon was perched and he met her purple eyes for a fleeting moment. She had smiled softly before turning back to the path ahead, guided by the old bearded Westerosi that always accompanied her closely. Though it was only a brief moment Jon had seen a young fragile girl in those eyes, looking for a home in the world. Now as people walked around in fear of the girl, Jon could not reconcile that with what he saw in those innocent eyes.

As the old ladies started to discuss the supposed phantom tortoises that had been seen moving down Warlock's Way since the fire, Jon grew weary of their continued gossiping and set off moving through the harbour. He still came here after his lessons though he no longer lingered outside the brothel but instead sat further down the street nearer the boats watching the firemages and spellsellers, who Jon had to admit had become far more impressive with their displays in the past few weeks.

Whilst Jon did not worry about the Targaryen girl he was concerned about the behaviour of his father. Even since the arrival of the Mother of Dragons at the head of a Dothraki hoard in Qarth, his father had been acting strangly. He had gone missing many evenings, often cancelling their sword practice and sometimes only returning home long after Jon had gone to bed too tired to remain awake for his return. He had also become very withdrawn, even for a man as quiet as Lothar Morning, and Jon struggled to get any conversation out of his father beyond the monosyllabic. He constantly seemed deep in thought and unable to bring his mind out of whatever was occupying it.

At first Jon thought his father was taking his duties extremely seriously in light of the presence of Dothraki and dragons in the walls of Qarth until a fellow civic guard turned up at their door and enquired about Lothar, asking why he had not shown up for his duties that day. Jon made excuses for his father, claiming he had been stricken with illness and was bedridden, but it alerted Jon that something else was wrong with Lothar. He had never missed a single day of his duty in the civic guard and, more importantly, he had never lied to Jon about his whereabouts. Jon knew then that something else was going on but he did not know where to start. As he wandered along the harbour now he tossed around various ideas in his head.

"It has to be the Targaryen girl he is watching. But for who? Perhaps he is doing some spying work for the Pureborn or one of the guilds?" he thought to himself, "Or maybe it's her companion, the Westerosi man father is watching? Does father remember him from his past? Hell, maybe he just has a mistress he goes to see!" Jon laughed at that last one.

Jon passed a brass merchant who waved a cup and a large platter in his face, which Jon was forced to bat away forcefully in order to get past. He set a steady pace as he started to make his way back home. He wasn't sure that his father would be home but he set off regardless. He managed to walk a short distance before his path was entirely blocked by a throng of people. Jon knew instinctively by the sole direction of their gazes that Daenerys Targaryen was in the harbour. He climbed a small crate and spotted her walking along the water's edge, accompanied the ever present bearded Westerosi bodyguard. She appeared to be inspecting boats and was currently speaking with the captain of a ship called the Greyhound, whom clearly did not give the girl the answer she wanted as she left his presence shaking her head. As she continued down the quay the people followed her at a wary distance, seemingly still fascinated in the girl despite their obvious fear of her. Jon was ready to leave the crowd to their morbid curiosity and pass through them to return home when he caught sight of him.

He saw his father moving slowly, following the Targaryen girl. He wore inconspicuous robes though Jon noted he clearly was armed with a short sword and he also ensured he was near the front of the crowd as they trailed her. Jon immediately turned and joined the crowd, though he started to bundle his way through them to keep a closer eye on his father. Strangely a surge of excitement spread through Jon as he stalked Lothar. He believed it was a result of the possibility of learning more about his father, not just what he has been up to recently but about his past.

Jon joined the crowd and his father in trailing the girl whilst she viewed numerous ships, though clearly none of them where what she desired. Eventually she started to make her towards another quay, though she abruptly stopped by the brass merchant's stall where she inspected the large platter that was waved in Jon's face earlier. Whilst the seller enthusiastically described the benefit of his wares, Jon noticed the girl was more interested in the two men pointed out to her in the platter's reflection by her Westerosi bodyguard. Jon had earlier spotted the huge brown heavily scarred man and his elderly companion and realised they were following Daenerys as well. Clearly their presence concerned the girl as she left the stall and appeared to want to leave the harbour quickly. However the brass seller was persistently trying to sell the platter and followed her, believing this was all part of the negotiation and reducing his price accordingly.

Eventually the merchant's incredible persistence paid off as the girl, looking flustered and frustrated, ordered the Westerosi to buy the platter just to get rid of the man. Whilst he fumbled with his coins to pay the man, Jon spotted a Qartheen man wearing plain robes approach the girl and give her a box which she took without thought. This clearly alarmed both Lothar and the elderly man who both converged on Daenerys' position. Jon followed, bundling his way through the crowd. He wondered why his father was suddenly alarmed at what he guessed was just another gift from an admirer until he heard the man speak

"I am so sorry."

What happened next was nothing short of pandemonium. Jon watched as the box was knocked swiftly out of Daenerys Targaryen's hand by the elderly man with a precise strike of his staff. Almost at the same time Lothar drew his sword and cut down the sorrowful man with a thrust of incredible speed that pierced the assassins heart, killing him before his body hit the floor. Two Dothraki quickly emerged on the scene and moved to protect Daenerys who looked in shock at what had just happened whilst the Westerosi bodyguard grabbed the platter and hit the huge man across the head as he lumbered forward at least five steps behind his elderly companion. Jon finally reached his father's position just as Lothar caught the eye of the elderly man who had finished crushing the box and was about to speak to Daenerys before he saw Lothar.

"Barristan?"

"Arthur? Is that you?"

He saw his father smile at the elderly man before he noticed Jon was by his side. The smile soon turned into a look of concern.

"Father, who is Arthur?" Jon asked in his confusion

Before Lothar could answer, Daenerys spoke up, addressing them all "I don't know what is going on but someone is going to explain it to me. Jhogo, Aggo, Jorah – seize them all."

He wasn't sure why but Jon immediately turned to run. He pushed past a couple of onlookers and decided to try and run back to his house where he hoped he could regroup with his father and find out just what was going on. However before he even managed five steps he heard the crack of a whip and he felt a leather cord wrap around his neck tightly. Jon tried to fight it but he was sharply pulled backwards. The back of his skull hit the floor and everything went black.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer – if you recognise it then it belongs to GRRM

Tyrion IV

"I believe Pyke will fall within a day of the fleet's arrival. I have instructed Lord Tarly and Lord Redwyne exactly how they are to proceed with their attack once they land."

Listening to the newly appointed Master of Ships Mace Tyrell spouting such arrogant nonsense to Renly Baratheon was giving Tyrion a headache but he had no choice but to hear as the fat idiot was in a show off mood and hence his loud voice could be head by everyone clustered around the throne. The walls of the throne room only seemed to enhance the noise with an echo. Mace seemed to think Renly was interested, though it was apparent by his face that he was not, so he continued "There are some strategic weaknesses that I am aware of and they will be exploited."

Tyrion had heard enough "Please tell us Lord Tyrell, what are these weaknesses that you speak of. I wish to learn more so I can be as astute as yourself in siege tactics."

As Renly suppressed a snigger, Mace raised his head proudly and replied "The wall by the Southern-most tower is weak and should fall easily. I have instructed that our attacks need to be concentrated here."

"This is the same wall that King Robert brought down in the Greyjoy rebellion yes?"

"Yes it is Lord Tyrion." Mace said looking rather pleased with himself.

"Well then surely that wall will be the strongest as it was only rebuilt about eight years ago whereas the others have been stood there for much longer. Wouldn't they be far more susceptible to a breech?" Tyrion asked

"Well….it is a….the ground….the soil around the new wall is wetter so the wall will not solid." Mace blustered in response, his voice noticeably lower than before.

"I had no idea you had such knowledge of the soil derogation, mortar durability and tidal patterns of Pyke Lord Tyrell. I am in awe of your depth of thought." Tyrion responded sarcastically.

"Why thank you Lord Tyrion." Mace replied, seemingly oblivious to the sarcasm. Renly was not however and he rolled his eyes knowingly at Tyrion.

Tyrion knew, as did everyone with a sane mind, that Randyll Tarly will do whatever he thinks best in order to conquer Pyke. And besides the Iron Islanders had been decimated by the surprise attack led by Robb Stark so it would not be a difficult task to put the Island to the sword and bring Balon Greyjoy in chains to Kings Landing. Mace Tyrell had only been appointed Master of Ships by his father in order to align House Tyrell to the throne, especially since there had been no decision yet on whether Joffrey was to marry Margaery Tyrell.

Of course Mace Tyrell's first act as the Master of Ships was to follow an exact order from Tywin to abandon the siege of his predecessor at Dragonstone and take the fleet to the Iron Islands. Tywin was insistent that all the remaining Ironborn be crushed beyond recovery for their crimes against House Lannister. Of course Mace was only too happy to follow this as it gave him the perfect opportunity to rid Westeros of the people that had caused The Reach so much trouble with their raids for countless years. Tyrion had tried to counsel his father that the Iron Islands were no threat anymore and hence could wait until they had brought Stannis to account but his words fell on deaf ears. Tywin's relief at the liberation of Lannisport soon turned into a fury for revenge against all Ironborn. He planned to wipe them out forever as a "sharp lesson" to those who dare to oppose him, much like Houses Reyne and Tarbeck. "They'll be a new song at least," Jamie had quipped to Tyrion in private, " and I'm glad of it. I'm so tired of hearing The Rains of Castamere."

Whilst Tyrion had felt relieved at the Ironborn's removal from the Westerlands, his thoughts did linger on Theon. Word of his death had reached Kings Landing and Tyrion wanted to grieve, strange as that was, but he was unable to do so without being branded a traitor. Cersei seemed to revel in Tyrion's discomfort and frequently referenced Theon and his untimely end when he was within earshot. Instead he had to hold his sadness at bay until he was alone where he had wept at first but now he just felt melancholy. He had only spoken to Jamie about it when he had come to him one night.

"I know you were close to Theon," Jamie had said, "but I don't understand how you can feel sadness after what he did."

"It wasn't him." Tyrion had replied.

"I know it wasn't him alone but he was there with his people, leading the attack on Lannisport and The Rock."

Tyrion shook his head "No. I mean it wasn't him, he wasn't himself."

Jamie's response was harsh "There are hundreds dead, a whole raft of women pregnant with Hill babies including our cousin Myrielle, homes destroyed and ships burnt with men still on-board. Theon took part in all this willingly so maybe you didn't know him at all."

Tyrion replied sadly "I know all this and his soul is damned for what he did. But I can't help the way I feel."

"Which is what?" Jamie asked sincerely.

"Like I failed him."

That was the inner truth. Jamie had disagreed and tried to assure him that that wasn't the case but Tyrion couldn't shake off the feeling that he had not done enough to stop Theon behaving as he did. Maybe it was irrational thought but it was one that would stay with Tyrion forever.

The crowds continued to filter into the throne room. Tyrion spotted numerous lords from the Westerlands, The Reach, the Riverlands, Stormlands and the North entering, excited at what was to follow. Word of the events at Lannisport had spread far and wide across Westeros and now people had flocked to the capital to see the Wolf Knight's triumphant return to the capital. The remarkable tale of Ser Robb infiltrating Lannisport with only fourteen other men in order to open the gates for the main force had captured the imagination of both the highborn and the common.

All except King Joffrey. Tyrion sighed as he remembered the boy's attitude when news of the retaking of Lannisport arrived by raven. He had dismissed the brilliance of Ser Robb's plan, in spite of Tyrion, Tywin, Jamie and Randyll Tarly all collectively agreeing it was genius, and claimed he could have retaken the port with fewer men in quicker time had he been there to lead the offensive. Joffrey outright refused to acknowledge the great feat that Ser Robb had done and had also refused to attend the ceremony today, instead going hunting in the Kingswood with Jamie and The Hound. He had even spitefully dragged Tommen along, just because he heard his younger brother's excitement at seeing the Wolf Knight again.

Tyrion turned to look at his father who had taken Joffrey's place on the iron throne. Looking at his expression, Tyrion struggled to guess at his father's mood but to him he looked something akin to excited. His gaze lingered on the door to the throne room, like he was waiting for sight of Robb Stark. Tyrion was tempted to go talk to his father to see if he could better assess his mood but eventually decided against it.

Cersei sat beside the throne on a small stool looking bored beyond her wits. Tyrion did have to concede that she did look beautiful today wearing a long green dress embroidered with golden lions, not that he would go tell her that in a million winters. Her already minimal level of kindness towards Tyrion had all but disappeared in the past few weeks. Along with her barbs about Theon's end, she had found reason to snipe at Tyrion at every opportunity, to the extent where it even annoyed Jamie. There was no reason for the sudden increase in hostility as far as Tyrion knew but again he knew better than to ask.

His thoughts were interrupted by the fanfare of trumpets and a loud voice of the seneschal announced "Lord Hand, Queen Regent, Lords and Ladies in attendance…..It's my pleasure to introduce the liberators of Lannisport led by the Wolf Knight, the Kraken Slayer, Warden of the North, Lord of Winterfell …..Ser Robb Stark!"

The boy entered the throne room to rapturous applause and cheering. He wore his battle armour and the Stark greatsword Ice was visible across his back. Despite the rabid response his face remained stoic and his dark grey eyes seemed focused and strong. He was closely followed by the Blackfish and numerous other Lords, knights and men-at-arms who had taken part in the battle. Tyrion spotted Rolph Spicer waving to the crowds, basking in the glory, which was surprising considering reports received from Lord Quenten Banefort who had noted Rolph's reluctance to attack. "No doubt my father will not forget his lack of courage." Tyrion thought grimly.

Tyrion searched the party for Lady Catelyn, only to find her in the crowd that had already entered the throne room prior. He caught her eye and smiled, which was politely returned in kind. Though she appeared as graceful as ever, Tyrion could see she was clearly tired. He guessed that whilst the exploits of Robb Stark enthral the masses, they were causing his mother many a sleepless night. She probably longed for the safety of Winterfell and the end of danger for her son.

Robb approached the iron throne, stopping a few paces before the present Kingsguard and took a knee.

"Lord Hand, I come to you to confirm that Lannisport is once again back in the hands of House Lannister and Casterly Rock is safe. The Ironborn invaders have been killed and I bring you their leaders. Domeric."

A boy wearing the flayed man of House Bolton and carrying a beautiful longsword stepped forward carrying a small black sack which he quickly tipped out before the throne. There were gasps as the two tarred heads hit the ground and rolled towards the feet of the Kingsguard Ser Moore. Tyrion looked down into the soulless dead eyes of Theon and wanted to throw up. However he felt his sister's eyes on him so he managed to control himself and remained motionless, though inside he felt like a part of him was dying. He turned his eyes to focus on the other head which he assumed was Theon's uncle Victarion, the Lord Captain of the Iron fleet.

Robb continued "They were slain in battle but I bring you their heads as proof they will disturb the King's peace no further. The Greyjoy girl was last seen falling overboard and is believed drowned. Should the Kraken's daughter ever emerge, she will be brought straight to the Red Keep to face the King's justice."

Tywin's lips curved ever so slightly, getting as near to a smile in public as he ever had before he spoke "Rise Ser Robb. You have served the throne loyally and if the King were not indisposed he would be here to offer you his sincere thanks in person."

"To receive them from you, Lord Tywin, is honour enough." Robb replied as he rose to his feet, though Tyrion was in doubt that Robb knew he had been slighted by Joffrey.

Tywin looked down on the Wolf Knight, like a father would look at his son with pride Tyrion observed, before speaking up "Word of your bravery and guile in opening the gates of Lannisport for a larger force has reached the capital and the throne is in your debt."

"I did not act alone, there were other men who braved the cliff and infiltrated Lannisport to open the gates." Robb replied.

"Step forward." Tywin commanded and fourteen others joined Robb standing in front of the throne, including the Blackfish.

Tywin addressed the men "The throne is in debt to all of you. Just as we reward treachery with fire and steel, we reward loyalty with accolades and wealth. Ser Oakheart, Ser Blount – knight the men in front of you who have not already received the honour."

Tyrion watched as thirteen men lined up – three from Houses Stark and Stackspear, two from Houses Drox and Banefort and one each from Houses Yarwyck, Lefford and Turnberry - and each was knighted. Most looked shocked and some close to tears. Whilst the men were being knighted, Tywin motioned to Janos Slynt who gathered up the severed heads and removed them from the throne room, much to Tyrion's relief.

Once the final man had been knighted the audience clapped in appreciation. Tywin hushed them and spoke "Each of you newly knighted men will receive land from your liege lord to build a keep and live as a landed knight with all the afforded benefits. Should any of your lord's object to this, please inform me and I will send Ser Gregor Clegane to confirm my decision."

Next Tywin turned to the Blackfish. "Ser Brynden Tully, tales of your heroism long precede this event and your bravery at Lannisport only further cements your status as a true knight of the realm. You may ask any boon of the throne and I will grant it, if it is in my power."

The Blackfish clearly pondered this for a brief moment before he addressed Tywin "During the fighting at Lannisport, Domeric Bolton duelled with the Ironborn Ser Harras Harlaw. I witnessed this duel and it was a savage affair, only ended when Domeric cut through the belly of Ser Harras and killed him. Ser Harras was a noted swordsman and he wielded the Valyrian steel blade known as Nightfall." Ser Brynden motioned to the young boy who earlier carried the black sack. He stepped forward nervously and showed the magnificent sword to the court, it's dark moonstone pommel contrasting with the brilliant silver of the blade.

The Blackfish continued "Domeric has carried Nightfall since the death of Ser Harras. It is my wish that the sword now passes to House Bolton so Domeric can wield it going forward with legitimacy. I ask that you make this so Lord Hand."

Tyrion could sense that Tywin was inwardly cursing the Blackfish for this request as he had always desired a Valyrian steel sword for House Lannister to replace Brightroar which had long since disappeared somewhere in the smoke of Valyria. No doubt he would have claimed Nightfall as part of the reparations owed from the Iron Islands once he was made aware of its existence but now he had no choice. "It is granted Ser Brynden." Tywin answered.

Tyrion admired the older knight's humility and his fatherly care for the Stark boy and all the wards of Winterfell. The Bolton boy was clearly delighted by the Blackfish's request and he shook his hand warmly, struggling to suppress the abject joy he was feeling in such a public forum. "Strange to think a man as cold as Roose Bolton sired such a happy boy." Tyrion thought to himself.

Finally Tywin turned to Robb Stark. "Ser Robb, you have achieved more in the space of a month as a knight than some do in a lifetime. Ask any boon of the throne and it will be granted, if it be in my power."

Robb gave the matter some thought then spoke confidently "Thank you Lord Hand, though my request is for your Master of Ships Lord Tyrell."

The crowd murmered in quiet speculation as Mace Tyrell made his way to the front of the platform. He looked as confused as everyone else. He spoke loudly "Ask away Ser Robb."

"I would like your daughter Margaery's hand in marriage."

As the murmering grew louder Tyrion instinctively turned to look at the face of his father. It gave away nothing though he was sure the same thoughts were circling around his mind as within his own. Mace Tyrell looked stunned and eventually said "Erm…..I… Ser Robb she….."

Robb cut in "Is Lady Margaery currently betrothed to anyone else Lord Tyrell?"

"Well….she…..she isn't. But I cannot make her marry you." Mace stuttered in response.

"Nor would I want you to Lord Tyrell. All I want is your permission to ask the Lady for her hand in marriage Lord Tyrell." Robb said confidently, like a man years older than he actually was.

Tyrion caught sight of the lady in question. Margaery looked as surprised as anyone in attendance today. He also saw the Queen of Thorns who was gasping her arm and whispering in her ear. Tyrion could guess the topic of choice would be why she should not marry a Northern savage and save herself for the King. But by the look on Margaery's face, she wasn't necessarily agreeing with her grandmother.

Once Mace gave his consent with a reluctant nod, Robb turned swiftly and approached Margaery in the crowd, who parted to allow him through. He approached the maiden of Highgarden and dropped to one knee, taking her hand into his own. She blushed crimson as the Wolf Knight spoke to her softly, though loud enough for all to hear.

"I could talk to you about how I could get lost into your eyes, how I want to feel your hair between my fingers and how I could listen to your sweet voice all day and night. I could tell you about how I would take you riding in the Rills, exploring the Wolfswood, swimming with whales in the Shivering Sea and show you all the sights of the North. But all I want to tell you is that since we first met I have only wanted to be with you and only you. I can't promise you a throne of iron but I can promise you a heart of love."

Tyrion could see that Maegaery started to tear, in spite of her strongest attempts not to, and she looked softly into her suitor's eyes. He felt a pang of jealously, seeing a boy of five and ten capture the heart of one of Westeros' fairest maidens which is something he never could do. Olenna Redwyne glared at Maegaery, seemingly trying to will her to say anything but what she did.

"Yes. I will marry you."

The crowd cheered wildly as Robb got to his feet and kissed her hand gently. This caused her face to change to an even brighter shade of red and she smiled happily. Lady Catelyn soon reached them and embraced both in a hug.

Tyrion moved to his father who was surveying the whole scene on the throne with his usual stern expression. He spoke quietly "When he hears of this, the King won't be happy. He's been set aside in favour of Ser Robb publicly." Then to emphasise the point he motioned towards Cersei whose face displayed a mask of fury.

"They were never formally betrothed." Tywin responded rather nonchalantly.

"That may be the case but it will not be seen like that by anyone from Flea Bottom to The Wall, including Joffrey." Tyrion said truthfully.

Tywin shrugged "Let them talk, it does not matter. It will serve as a lesson for King Joffrey to attend these sessions of court."

Cersei clearly overheard and interjected sharply "The boy has humiliated the King! This cannot go unpunished."

Tywin relaxed back on the throne, as much as someone could on the hulking twisted mass of iron, and said "He is young and enamoured with a comely girl. I see no crime in that."

In that instant Tyrion felt his second bout of jealously that day. Seeing his father look at Robb in the same way he used to look at Jamie as a boy, he never felt less a Lannister and more a dwarf.


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer - if you recognise it, then it belongs to GRRM

Jon IV

As he slept he dreamt he was a horse. He was strong and well rested, eager to be ridden out in the long grasses like he remembered. Currently he was stabled with others, not as many as there once was but still enough to call themselves a herd. A beautiful silver filly was nearby but kept separate from the rest of the herd. As a horse he wanted her but there was no way of getting to her with all the wooden fences in the way. He made noises to get her attention but received nothing in response than a dismissive swish of the tail. Eventually he gave up and went back to trotting around his stable. He longed to be free on the plains, running like the wind.

Jon awoke with a start. Immediately his hands went to the back of his head to find a white bandage. He pressed the back of his head gently with the tips of his fingers but immense pain hit him so he stopped. The memories came back to him and he realised he must have hit the stones very hard.

It was only then he noticed he wasn't in his own bed. This one was much bigger and far more ornate. The cushions and bedding was a soft White silk. He fingered it gently trying to figure out where he was.

"You are in the palace of Xaro Xhoan Daxos."

The voice made him jump though it was familiar. He looked over to the far side of the bedroom to see Lothar sat in a chair. He looked weary and wore plain robes similar to what he was wearing in the harbour when he cut down the sorrowful man.

"How are you feeling Jon?"

"A bit dizzy and tired but I will be fine." he replied.

Jon adjusted himself so he was sitting more upright before he spoke "Father, last thing I remember was Daenaerys Targaryen and her Dothraki arresting us. I tried to run but obviously didn't get far. Are we prisoners here?"

"No Jon. Daenaerys has questioned me and she knows I am no threat to her."

"Is she going to want to talk to me?" Jon asked.

"Yes," Lothar answered, "but she has been gracious enough to let me come talk to you first. I have told her the truth of me and you. I haven't been honest with you, for both our protection. But now...I know now that it's time for us to take our rightful places in the world. But before we can, I need to tell you who you are and who I am."

Jon's head was spinning and not just due to his injury. He couldn't comprehend what his father meant but he remembered a name.

"Arthur... Are you Arthur?" Jon asked keeping his eyes fixed on his father.

"Yes." he answered bluntly. "My name is Arthur Dayne. I had to change my name in order to disappear from existence so I could keep you safe."

"But why do I need protecting?"

"Jon there is so much to explain. Rather than answer questions, let me tell you the whole story from the beginning."

Jon felt too weak to argue against Lothar... well Arthur now. So he lay back into the soft pillows and listened as Arthur spoke.

"I grew up in Dorne. House Dayne is a noble house whose seat is a beautiful ancient castle on the banks of the Torentine river called Starfall."

Jon had never wished so much that he had paid more attention to his geography lessons. House Dayne seemed to register somewhere in his memory though.

Arthur carried on "From being a boy, it was soon clear that my skill lay with a sword. House Dayne has a long prestigious history of great swordsman so my father thanked the Gods I was able to continue the tradition. I was knighted at age seven and ten by Prince Lewyn Martell after winning the jousting tourney at Yronwood to commemorate Lord Yronwood's nameday. I rode well that day, unhorsing knights and lords much older and more experienced than myself. I was so proud becoming a knight but my proudest moment came two years later."

Arthur reached over and dragged a chest in front of the chair. It was the same chest that had been in his room at their house. Jon hadn't noticed it until now. His father pulled a rusted key out of his pocket and used it to open the heavy lock which made an echoed boom as it hit the floor. Arthur pulled open the lid and took a long look into the chest, though Jon could not see anything from the bed.

Arthur continued "After I had defended some fishermen from pirate raiders on the shores of the Summer Sea, my father honoured me by naming me the Sword of the Morning. This position is held by a knight of House Dayne who is most deserving, regardless of age or seniority. Even my father had never been deemed worthy enough so you see how this was the greatest moment of my life. As part of the honour of being the Sword of the Morning, I got to wield the ancestral sword of House Dayne...Dawn."

Jon almost gasped as his father pulled out a spectacular greatsword from the chest and held it upwards in both hands. The pale white blade seemed to glimmer in the light, dancing reflections on the ceiling. Arthur looked at the blade fondly as he lowered it and lay it on the floor. Jon struggled to look away from it, its beauty drawing him in.

"It is...amazing father." Jon eventually said.

"It was forged from metal from the heart of a fallen star. It is the best sword in the world, even better than any Valyrian steel sword. And it was all mine. Keeping it hidden away all these years was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do."

The look on Arthur's face told Jon that this was the truth.

"As the realm was at peace, there were no wars for me to fight to show I was worthy to wield Dawn. So I spent my time helping keep the Kings peace and entering various tourneys across Westeros. I distinguished myself at a few of these, even won the occasional one. It was at one of these many tourneys that I first met the heir to the throne, Prince Rhaegar Targaryen."

"Finally a name I recognise." Jon thought to himself. He had been taught about the infamous Rhaegar in his lessons and how his abduction of some girl led to the war of the Usurper and the fall from grace of House Targaryen. He did not say anything though and let his father continue to tell his tale.

"Rhaegar was a quiet brooding man, but intelligent and with wits as sharp as a sword. Once you got past his shell and got to know him, you knew he was destined to be a great king. I was privileged to truly get to know him and he became my closest friend. Not that it stopped us competing hard against each other - I remember breaking twelve lances against him at Storm's End. I was so sore I couldn't raise my left arm for a week afterwards!"

Arthur smiled at the memory whilst Jon was shocked that his father would hold a man guilty of some many crimes in such high regard.

"When I just turned three and twenty, Rhaegar offered me a place in the Kingsguard. You know of the Kingsguard?"

Jon nodded.

"Well I accepted and was inducted by the Lord Commander Ser Gerold Hightower less than a week later. The Kingsguard are the greatest knights in the realm and I was honoured to be deemed worthy enough. I took to the role well and further distinguished myself in the White Cloaks defending the throne and the innocent of Westeros. Tell me Jon, what do you know of the Kingsguard?"

Jon racked his brains "They renounce all claims to land or title, they cannot marry or sire children...wait is this why I am called Jon Sand and not Jon Dayne? Did you break your vows?"

Arthur shook his head. "No Jon. The only woman I ever loved married another. That was one reason I accepted Rhaegar's offer to join the Kingsguard and I stuck to their vows with all of my honour. What I am trying to tell you is that I am not your father."

Jon was lost for words. The back of his head flashed with pain as his mind seemed to erupt with the shock of it all. It just didn't make sense, the man he knew as his father simply wasn't. He looked at Arthur, pleading with him silently to tell him it was a jape or a big mistake, but he remained motionless.

"I am sorry to tell you like this Jon. I thought you not knowing was for the best but things have changed now."

Eventually Jon whimpered a response "So who is my father?"

Arthur paused before he spoke "You are the son of Rhaegar Targaryen."

If Jon wasn't fully in shock before, he certainly was now. Many thoughts swirled around his mind "No, that cannot be. I can't be the illegitimate son of that rapist madman." he said in desperation.

Arthur spoke up "Jon, you must always remember that history gets written by the victorious. Rhaegar made mistakes but he certainly was not a rapist madman like your history lessons would have taught you. I will tell you the truth of your father and your birth."

Arthur composed himself before continuing "At the tournament of Harrenhal, the greatest tourney ever, Rhaegar was unstoppable. He tore through the field like a man possessed, including beating me in only two tilts in the semi-final. When it came to crown his Queen of Love and Beauty, he shocked everyone when he ignore his wife, Elia Martell, and crowned a young Northern girl Lyanna Stark instead."

Jon interrupted "Were you shocked? I thought you were his best friend and knew him better than anyone?"

"I knew Rhaegar did not love his wife. Yes he was fond of her and found her intelligence attractive, but it was a marriage made of duty not love. What shocked me was the impulsiveness of his decision as Rhaegar was dutiful above all else. But he was infatuated with the Stark girl and that desire for her must have caused him to act in haste and forget his duty. It caused a scandal but nothing compared to what happened shortly afterwards."

"When Rhaegar abducted Lyanna Stark and started the War of the Usurper." Jon stated.

"This is where history gets it wrong, no doubt thanks to the late Robert Baratheon. Rhaegar and Lyanna ran away together, both willingly full of lust for each other. They did not tell anyone where they were and by the time Rhaegar returned to Kings Landing, the King had murdered Lord Rickard Stark and his eldest son and the War of the Usurper had begun."

"Was King Aery's truly insane or is that another falsehood?" Jon asked, remembering how he was referred to as the "Mad King" by his tutor.

"Yes he was." Arthur replied solemnly, "By this point King Aery's was unrecognisable from the charming sensible man who sat on the throne when I first joined the Kingsguard. I was in the Stormlands searching for Rhaegar when King Aery's killed Lord Rickard but I heard from my fellow Whitecloaks that what he did…well they were the actions of a man who had taken leave of his senses. I felt so sorry for my brothers who were in the throne room that day, being forced to partake in that horror and witness a good man immolated in his own armour."

"I feel sorry for the man burnt alive. They should have done something other than watch him die." Jon replied hastily, his anger at these revelations coming to the surface.

"Being a Kingsguard means following the orders of the King, whether you agree with them or not. I dichotomy of following your vows of the Kingsguard when it went against the vows you took as a knight could be difficult, nor more so than for the men present that day. Do not judge them too harshly Jon, I can assure you that each one of them suffered."

"Not more than Lord Stark." Jon thought and was tempted to say though he held his tongue.

Arthur caressed his whiskers gently before carrying on "Upon his return to the capital I questioned Rhaegar on his whereabouts and eventually got the truth out of him. He told me of the passion between him and Lyanna, their love nest at the Tower of Joy in Dorne and how he finally felt true love like in the songs. I was happy for my friend though I did voice my unease about how he was treating his wife, who deserved better than to be shamed, and how this crusade of Robert Baratheon was a bigger threat to the throne than King Aery's realised. Both Rhaegar and the King still believed the loyalist Lords of the Riverlands would put down the rebels and it would amount to nothing. For months Rhaegar kept leaving to go visit Lyanna, their love meant he struggled to be away from her for long, and the rebels kept winning and gaining strength. Eventually King Aery's realised this rebellion was the biggest threat to the Targaryen rule since Daemon Blackfyre and he ordered Rhaegar to go meet the Robert's army in battle."

"The day before Rhaegar left, he called myself, Lord Commander Hightower and Ser Oswell Whent into his solar. He told us that Lyanna was with child. Both Rhaegar and Lyanna feared that their unborn child would be killed should the Usurper or his followers find her so he ordered us to go to her as protectors. He made us each swear a vow that we would give up our lives in defence of Lyanna and her unborn child, which we each did willingly. To be honest I was sure Rhaegar and his army would crush the rebels and he would be back with her within the month. However Rhaegar died at the hands of the Usurper and we had to remain at the Tower of Joy helpless whilst the rebels won, King Aerys was slain by one of our sworn brothers, Kings Landing fell and innocents died brutally."

Jon could see that Arthur came close to tears as he recalled these memories. He wondered whether it was just the memory of Rhaegar or if he lost someone else special to him at the hands of the rebels. He dared not ask at this moment but he did ask the obvious question.

"I am the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark?"

"Yes." Arthur stated bluntly.

"So what happened to my mother?"

"Eventually the Usurpers men found us. Seven men led by Robert's best friend and Lyanna's brother Eddard Stark came upon the Tower of Joy. We fought them and by the end only I remained alive. Unfortunately at the same time as we fought, Lyanna went into birth. Something went wrong and she died giving birth to you."

"So you didn't lie about everything." Jon said with bitterness in his tone.

Arthur ignored his comment and said "Before she died she made me promise I would take care of you and I vowed to her I would. I cut your cord with Dawn and wrapped you in this – my Kingsguard robe." Arthur pulled a long cloak out of the chest and showed it to Jon. I was a brilliant white though it was stained with blood.

"I made my way across the Narrow Sea and eventually ended up here in Qarth. I became Lothar Morning, as there was a reward on the head of Arthur Dayne, and thought I could keep you safe here. I stopped shaving, took a job with the Civic guard and settled down here. I never thought I would need to tell you the truth of your blood and you could live your life in safety. But with Daenaerys Targaryen here, I knew it was time for us both to come out of hiding."

Jon had forgotten about the Mother of Dragons but he soon realised they were related. "Wait, this means that Daenaerys is my…..aunt."

"Yes. I have been watching her whilst she has been in Qarth and I am confident she is of sound mind. She wants to claim the Iron Throne and I want us to help her. I have told her this tale and she is eager to meet you but you need your rest now. Sleep some more and she will come see you when you are able to rise."

Arthur picked up Dawn and sheathed it across his back in a single fluid motion. He went to leave the room but lingered at the doorway before turning to face Jon.

"She named you before you died and I honoured her last words and did not change it. She loved you very much Jon, as did your father, bastard or not. I'm sorry I have only told you this now and I don't blame you if you are furious with me, but believe me I thought I was doing what was best and ensuring I kept my promise to your mother. I…..love you too, blood or not, and I hope you know that." With that he swept out the room leaving Jon alone with his thoughts.

Jon struggled to comprehend everything he had been told. His world felt like it has been turned upside down and he had been dropped on his head all over again. He felt like a fool for believing that man was his father all those years, even though deep down something just didn't feel right. He eventually fell asleep, the tiredness of his body overtaking the frenzied thoughts in his mind.


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer – if you recognise it then it belongs to GRRM

Catelyn V

The drums were pounding, pounding, pounding and her head with them. Jesters and fools wailed at the top of their voice, each trying to upstage the other, whilst the fiddles and horns duelled a musical war. The noise boomed around the throne room, giving Catelyn no respite from the barrage of noise. "King Joffrey must be deaf if he thinks this can be classed as music." She thought to herself.

Lord Tywin had insisted upon a celebratory feast for Robb and Margaery before they returned to Winterfell tomorrow. He had graciously offered them the use of the Great Sept for their marriage but Robb had kindly refused, insisting that their vows would take place at Winterfell. They were due to leave tomorrow, along with a mighty Tyrell host. The return to Winterfell would take around a month, maybe longer with the sheer number of people accompanying them, but she was glad to finally return home.

She was sat on the dais in a place of honour between Mace Tyrell and Alerie Hightower. Robb and Margaery sat further along with Tywin, Tyrion and Kevan – a wolf with his rose among the lions. Joffrey sat dead centre of the dais, a foul expression adorning his face. He drank steadily and only stopped to speak to Cersei sat his right, who displayed a similar unhappy face. The Iron Throne towered above them all like an ominous spectre waiting to strike.

Catelyn smiled at Brynden, who was sat on a bench below the dais next to Domeric and Torrhen. He winked at her before returning to the boys, who were howling in drunken laughter watching Perwyn trying to seduce a pretty girl from House Rykker but failing miserably. It warmed Catelyn's heart to hear the boys laugh again, they had all been completely devastated by the death of Daryn and she was glad they were starting to move on. Living in a time of peace meant that the boys had not experienced much death of loved ones. Now each had lost a friend and taken at least one life at Lannisport – it was a harsh welcome to manhood and one Catelyn had not wanted for the boys for a few years yet.

Robb had taken it especially hard and the ride from Lannisport to Kings Landing was one filled with few words. Brynden had told Catelyn how Robb had personally beheaded the Greyjoy boy who had fired the fateful arrow that killed Daryn but it did not bring him peace. What was worse was that he did not talk about it and kept to his stoic silences.

Seeing Robb now, as he chatted with Lord Tywin and Margaery, he was back to his old self. Catelyn did not know of Robb's intention to ask for her hand when he was rewarded by Lord Tywin. Her first thought at the time was he would ask for a posthumous knighthood for Daryn but she was as shocked as the rest when he asked for Lady Margaery's hand. The smile on his face when she agreed was the first he had shown since the death of his friend and Catelyn was so moved she embraced them both in genuine happiness.

In the week since then Catelyn had gotten to know her future good daughter, spending time with her whilst she embroidered and taking walks around the Red Keep. It was clear that she was an intelligent and witty lady, a true protégée of Olenna Redwyne. She kept her shield of good manners and poise up at all time, even when alone with Catelyn, and never said anything in haste, every answer measured and controlled. What gave Catelyn comfort was that Margaery struggled not to blush at the mere mention of Robb. It was clear that she was as smitten with her son as he was with her and all of her training seemed to be forgotten whenever he was brought up. Catelyn had always wanted his son to marry well and she hoped that love would grow out of any match over time. In this instance she was confident it would, even if it wasn't the union she would have picked for Robb herself.

Catelyn was aware that this betrothal went against the plans of other people as well. Olenna Redwyne was rumoured to be inconsolable that her granddaughter is not going to ever be queen. She apparently raged at Margaery, imploring her to change her mind and chiding her for "being so stupid as to follow your heart over your mind." A washerwoman had told Catelyn of this one afternoon as she had been in the next room at her duties and had listened to the entire argument. Catelyn could see the Queen of Thorns now, sat between Paxter Redwyne's twins, and the expression on her face was not one of joy.

This union obvious bothered the Queen Regent as well, though Catelyn had much more trouble understanding that. Whilst it was apparent that Tywin and the dwarf had plotted to marry Robb to Myrcella, it was just as clear that Cersei was completely against any such union. Catelyn actually had a measure of understanding as she could imagine how hard it would be to see your child disappear to the other side of Westeros for marriage and Cersei was only trying to prevent this. That being said, with Robb now betrothed to Margaery and hence Myrcella not leaving for the North, Cersei was still displaying anger at this match. The obvious reason was the perceived humiliation of Joffrey but surely that was a small price to pay for her daughter going nowhere?! Catelyn had given up trying to befriend the woman and now decided there was no point trying to understand her as well.

Thankfully the music died down to make way for a singer as the food was being served. They started with a delicious mushroom soup that was soon followed by roast pheasant stuffed with fresh oranges, chicken in ginger, medallions of beef in an Arbor Red sauce and fresh fruit covered in thick cream for dessert. Wine and ale was also being served and consumed at a furious rate, though Catelyn meekly sipped her large goblet of wine, keeping her head clear. The sheer volume of food though filled Catelyn completely and she was sure there would be no need to eat for the entire journey back to Winterfell. There seemed to be no filling of Mace Tyrell however who finished every plate and was even asking for extra dessert by the end.

The singer, who went by the name Symon, played a woodharp softly whilst everyone ate. As soon as the desserts were cleared away he started singing Two Hearts That Beat As One, a romantic song that Catelyn had not heard in many years. He followed that with Seven Swords For Seven Sons and The Rains of Castamere, obviously to court favour with Tywin.

Next the singer announced he had written a new song called The Wolf Knight which he launched into with gusto. It was a rousing song, paying tribute to Robb's triumph at Lannisport. Soon everyone was joining in with the chorus at the top of their voices.

_"And the Wolf Knight came to change the Kraken's fate_

_He braved the deadly cliffs and opened up the gates_

_He led the charge on the Rock and the Kraken fled_

_But the Wolf Knight killed them all and now they're DEAD DEAD DEAD!"_

Catelyn smiled as she watched Robb blush at the song, clearly embarrassed. Margaery held his hand tightly, showing immense pride at her future husband. Once Symon was finished the crowd erupted in applause and he gave Robb a dramatic bow.

"Play the Northman's wife."

All the good feeling seemed to get sucked out of the room as everyone turned in silence to look at King Joffrey. He was standing and clearly very far into his cups. He displayed a malicious smile and held his stare at the singer who shifted uncomfortably.

"Do you mean The Dornishman's Wife Your Grace?" Symon eventually asked.

"Well obviously," Joffrey replied, "but you can change the words surely? Your King demands it!"

Symon reluctantly began the song and his voice was alone as no-one else joined in. Catelyn looked over towards Robb, whose face was stone. He clearly knew what Joffrey was insinuating, as did everyone in attendance, and she could see he was struggling to control his rage. Margaery held his hand, seemingly trying to calm him, but it was having little effect. Catelyn also observed Tywin and the Imp both looking furious with their King but just as helpless as everyone else in stopping this unfolding.

Once Symon finished Joffrey clapped in delight and everyone followed suit, though with far less enthusiasm.

Joffrey turned to Robb and spoke loudly "Ser Robb, did you like my choice of song?"

Robb's stern expression had remained but it soon changed into a relaxed smile. "Of course Your Grace, excellent choice. Your sense of humour is a sharp as your swordsmanship. Might I make a request Symon? Please play The Dance of the Dragons."

The singer started singing and was soon joined by some of the more ignorant members of the crowd. Catelyn was very aware that Robb had deliberately picked an old Targaryen song about civil war in Westeros and she was mad at him for letting his temper get the better of him. "What is he thinking?" Catelyn thought angrily, "Does he not realise that he could be seen as a traitor for that choice of song." She resolved to have a strong word with her son before the night was over. Catelyn thought back to Brandon and guessed Robb had the same wolfsblood as his uncle. She found herself wondering if Eddard had the same hot temper as Brandon and if being married to him would have been as much of an adventure as she believed being married to Brandon would have been. However Benjen doesn't have that headstrong nature and is a very calm collected character so maybe Eddard would have been more similar to his younger brother than his older. She would never know.

As the singer finished Catelyn waited on bated breath, wondering how the King would react. Clearly Tyrion did not want to find out and he leaped onto the table and shouted "Symon, play Bessa the Barmaid!"

"Excellent choice." Catelyn thought. She was correct as soon enough everyone was joining in the bawdy song and the tension in the throne room evaporated. Once finished the singer continued with Fifty-Four Tuns, Lusty Lad and Meggett was a Merry Maid, each one sung heartily by both Symon and the entire male audience. At some point Joffrey walked out and left though it went un-noticed by most in attendance. Catelyn was thankful he was gone so Robb would have no reason for further confrontation.

Symon finished by with A Rose of Gold to honour Margaery and House Tyrell, The Bear and The Maiden Fair and The Rains of Castamere once more for good measure. He received a warm applause as he finished before the musicians took over almost immediately, although thankfully for Catelyn not as loud as before.

The night continued. Perwyn continued to woo the pretty girl but each attempt only got him more embarrassed as she continued to resist his charms. Brynden sat with Tommen and told him about Maelys the Monsterous, much to the young prince's squeamish delight. At one point Domeric took one of the musician's high harp and played a lovely melody for everyone, despite being clearly drunk. Catelyn spent her time talking with Alerie, whom she found was a shy but charming lady. Alerie was as nervous as Catelyn about the upcoming wedding but Catelyn did her best to assure her, both about the state of the sept at Winterfell but also about Robb's nature.

Couples began to dance around the floor, led by Robb and Margaery who seemed reluctant to dance with anyone than each other. Catelyn felt a tap and the shoulder.

"Lady Stark, may I have this dance?"

She smiled and nodded. She reluctantly took the hand of Lord Tywin and was swiftly escorted to the dance floor. Catelyn was surprised to find he was a very competent dancer and his steps were very graceful. His grip was firm but gentle and he led her round the floor was assured confidence. Catelyn found herself staring at the Hand of the King and admitted to herself that she did find him handsome, despite the age difference. His eyes were much brighter than she had ever noticed and the gold seemed to swirl almost hypnotically.

"Is everything ok Lady Stark?" Tywin asked

"I just want to apologise, Lord Tywin, for Robb's behaviour earlier. He behaved badly and I hope you know he doe-"

Tywin interrupted her "There is nothing to apologise for Lady Stark. It is I who should be apologising for the behaviour of my nephew. Despite being our King, he still acts like a petulant boy sometimes."

"Still my son should not have been so foolish and responded as he did, requesting that song."

Tywin's lips formed what came close to a smile "He is in love and love can make a fool of any man. I know this all too well."

Catelyn was surprised by Tywin's frankness and was intrigued. She pressed him gently "I cannot imagine you ever acting the fool Lord Tywin."

He stared at her, looking for signs of ridicule, before he spoke "After my mother died, my father fell in love with a harlot who nearly destroyed House Lannister, both materially and reputational. When I came into power I swore I would never make the same mistake. I was fortunate that I fell in love with Joanna who had the power to make me act however she wanted but never chose to wield it in a way that would make me look foolish, at least in public."

Tywin's eyes seemed to fill though no tears fell down his cheeks. Catelyn felt moved by the honesty of the Hand and whatever intimidation she had once felt towards him slipped away. She grasped his hand tightly and smiled at him. Again he did not return the smile though he looked at her with what she interpreted as fondness. The song ended and Tywin kissed her hand softly. "I hope we may dance again Lady Stark, I do enjoy your company." Despite her best efforts Catelyn knew she was blushing.

Catelyn next danced with Ser Garlan Tyrell, Brynden, Domeric, Janos Slynt and only stopped after a dance with Lord Mace Tyrell as her feet could take no more, especially after his clumsy feet kept crushing hers. She make her way back up to the dais and relaxed in her chair. The night had gone well. Everyone was now talking and laughing. The dwarf was telling stories that were entertaining Robb, Margaery and Domeric. Brynden was comparing war stories with Ser Jamie. Torrhen and Perwyn were laughing at Lord Varys as he was stumbling around the throne room very drunk. Even Oleena Redwyne had appeared to relax and was talking with Cersei quietly.

Catelyn found herself staring at Lord Tywin again. He was in deep conversation with Ser Kevan and Grand Maester Pycelle and again she conceded that he was a handsome man. She felt like he had shown her some intimate part of himself when they danced and it was soothing to see a man as powerful as him could still be grieving for a love long dead. She remembered how she grieved for Brandon for so long, though people mistook it as sadness at the death of Eddard. Only Brynden truly knew and he did not judge. He understood how she had never got to know Eddard so could not grieve for a man she barely knew, even if he was the father of her son.

A loud cry took Catelyn's attention. She turned to see Margaery laughing wildly as Varys grabbed her wine cup out of her hand before twirling her around the room with some measure of grace for a drunk. The crowd cheered as he quickly accosted Robb to join in the mad spinning as well. Soon many in the audience were putting their drinks down and joining in to create a riotous scene to anyone watching. It only ended when Varys fell on his behind to much laughter and clapping. He dragged himself back to his feet before proposing a toast to Robb and Margaery which all joined, grabbing the nearest available cup to drink.

As Varys staggered away, presumably to find a privy or a bed, Catelyn left her seat to go join Robb and Margaery. They were both laughing and Margaery was trying to tidy Robb's hair which had become dishevelled after the wild dancing. She fussed over him whilst he drank his wine and pushed her away playfully.

"When I am your wife, you won't be able to stop me tidying your hair." Margaery laughed at Robb.

"You can try!" Robb replied as he finished his wine in a big gulp.

"You won't succeed Ser Robb," Margaery replied, "I'll be choosing your clothes as well!"

Robb pulled her close and whispered in her ear, resulting in further playful laughter from Margaery. He then noticed Catelyn and embraced her as well.

"The two Ladies of Winterfell, each one beautiful." He spoke loudly and Catelyn knew he was drunk so she took his cup before he could get another refill. He grabbed after the cup but Catelyn placed it out of his reach. Margaery smiled as she sipped from her cup at a more relaxed pace.

Catelyn held Robb's gaze as she spoke "We start a long ride tomorrow so best you are not feeling too unwell." He looked back at her with a face of disappointment, though Catelyn knew he had accepted her message.

"Perhaps you are right mother. It might be best if I retire to my chambers. I can escort you if you wish Margaery….MARGAERY!"

Catelyn turned and saw that Margaery had turned a deathly shade of blue. She was trying to speak though no words came out. She grabbed Robb and Catelyn tightly, pleading for help. She continued to attempt to speak but the only noise she made was a violent cough before she fell, only avoiding hitting the floor thanks to Robb catching her.

The next few minutes were chaos. Ser Garlan ran over and tried to force his hand down her throat, Ser Loras screamed at Pycelle for help and Alerie cried in the arms of Mace. Robb and Jamie Lannister beat on her back, willing any blockage to crumble but it was to no avail. Eventually after much effort Garlan stood solemnly and walked away. She was dead.

Whilst the Queen of Thorns wailed and Loras drew his sword, demanding answers, Catelyn joined Robb on his knees. He cradled the head of Margaery, staring deeply at her face like she was only sleeping. She grabbed him tightly but he would not relinquish his hold on the body. While the sadness and rage flowed around them, Robb looked broken. He turned to Catelyn and spoke through tears "Mother, I've lost the love of my life. My rose is gone."


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer - if you recognise it then it belongs to GRRM

Jon V

They'd been walking for ten minutes, which only took them around a fifth of Xaro's palace gardens, when Jon summoned up the courage to speak.

"So what was it like being part of a Dothraki horde?"

"I am not a part of a khalasar, I am the head, the Khaleesi." Daenaerys replied curtly.

"Sorry. I was only trying to break this silence." Jon responded.

Daenaerys smiled to Jon's relief. She spoke in far more friendly tone "It was hard to adjust to the Dothraki lifestyle but once you get used to their ways and customs it is far less intimidating and you see they are the same as any culture. They have Gods, superstitions, hopes and fears - they just differ from those in the free cities or Westeros."

"I can't imagine he has any fears."

Jon pointed at the Dothraki who followed them from a distance. He eyed Jon warily and kept his hand by his whip at all times.

"Aggo is my Ko, one of my bloodriders. He would give him life for me." she replied.

Jon rubbed the back of his head and laughed "Yes, I know that all too well."

Daenaerys looked at him tenderly "I am sorry you got hurt. Is it still sore?"

"No." Jon lied.

They both continued to walk around the gardens. The air swirled with a mixture of mint and lavender that threatened to overwhelm the senses. Jon ran his hand along the edge of a bush and felt leaves softer than he had ever experienced, like they were made of silk. Jon knew that Xaro Xhoan Daxos was a wealthy man but he had never realised just how wealthy he was. His gardens were as majestic as any place he had ever seen. Daenaerys seemed to be less interested in their surroundings and was keeping her eye on Jon.

Jon became aware of the silence again so asked her "Where is your other bodyguard? The Westerosi old man?"

Jon regretted the question as Daenaerys face saddened instantly.

"Ser Jorah is...no longer welcome in my presence."

She must have sensed Jon's next question as she answered it before he could ask. "Ser Barristan has confirmed that he was spying on me for the Usurper, whilst the false king was alive. He reported on my whereabouts, my health, my unborn child...he didn't even deny it, he just claimed he had changed and had stopped long ago."

Jon sensed her discomfort so he changed the topic "Ser Barristan is the elderly man with the staff? What's his story?"

Daenaerys proceeded to tell Ser Barristan's tale, from his days under Aerys in the Kingsguard, serving the Usurper as Lord Commander, his dismissal by the Boy King and subsequent voyage across the Narrow Sea to Pentos where he met Illyrio and came in disguise to Qarth to serve Daenaerys.

"Why in disguise?" Jon asked.

"He wanted to see if I had the same madness as my father. He obviously won't get that chance now but he has listened to Ser Arthur who was also keeping watch over me in Qarth and is satisfied I am sane. It's strange really, I always assumed Aery's madness was lies spread by the Usurper but it was the truth."

"Unless Arthur is lying." Jon said bluntly.

Daenaerys shook her head "Ser Arthur is as noble a knight as there has ever been. As a child Ser Willem Darry told me of the legendary Sword of the Morning so I am confident in his word."

Jon felt his anger rise, not at Daenaerys but at the man he called Father for fifteen years. "From personal experience, I wouldn't put too much faith in the word of Loth...Arthur. The man does not only speak truths, he can lie."

Daenaerys stopped walking and turned to face Jon. Her rich purple eyes met his angry grey ones. "Let me ask you Jon, did Ser Arthur ever lie for his own benefit?"

"No." Jon answered with reluctance.

"Did he ever try to take advantage of you, in any way, whilst acting as your father?"

"No."

"Has he ever treated you any differently than a father would treat his son?"

Jon shook his head.

Danaerys reached out and held Jon's hand "Then do not hate him. His lie was for your own good."

"But I deserved to know the truth!" Jon replied angrily.

"Ser Arthur did what he thought was best, just as Ser Willem did for me when I was growing up. We both were shielded from some harsh truths of our past by men who were fathers to us in everything but blood."

They carried on walking while Jon pondered on what Daenaerys said. Though it loathed him to admit, she had a good point. Arthur had taught him how to fight and paid for more learned men to teach him words, numbers and everything else. He had always clothed and fed Jon, he had wanted for nothing growing up. Memories came back to him of the many times when Jon was young and Arthur would read to him till he fell asleep or when he would climb onto his back and ride him like a horse in mock jousts.

Arthur was a good man, Jon acknowledged that, and he had always ensured Jon was taken care of. Jon just couldn't shake off the feeling of betrayal and until he did, he would find it difficult to forgive Arthur fully.

Daenaerys spoke up "Can I ask you something Jon? What do you want?"

"I'm not sure what you mean?" he replied in genuine puzzlement

"I plan to return to Westeros and claim my rightful place on the Iron Throne. I do not plan sharing it with any other."

"I'm still not sure what you mean?"

Daenaerys assessed Jon's face before continuing "Some might argue that you have a better claim to the throne. You are Rhaegar's son, bastard yes but still his heir, and obviously you are male. Do you want the throne?"

Jon laughed immediately at the absurdity of the question. It is not one he ever thought he would be asked in his lifetime. Daenaery's looked confused at Jon's response but did not speak. After he stopped laughing he composed himself and said "Until two days ago I thought I was the bastard son of Lothar Morning and now I'm still just trying to get to grips with that not being the truth. The thought of being King of Westeros has never crossed my mind till now."

"And?" Daenaerys asked.

"In truth I don't know what I want. I feel lost. But I can assure you I don't want the Iron Throne. I won't attempt to stand in your way, or the succession of any of your children."

Gloom fell upon Daenaerys' face again and she muttered "There will be no children, only if the sun rises in the west and sets in the east." She had a far away look on her face and for the first time she looked like the young girl Jon had seen bustled through the streets of Qarth.

"What do you mean?" He asked her.

"A maegi cursed me and now I am barren. I thought the Targaryen line would end with me but now I have found you. Jon, I will not give you the throne but I do want to name you as my heir. You would take the throne upon my death and your children and children's children will follow you." Again Jon fell speechless.

She continued "You said you feel lost and I understand that all too well. But I think we were brought together by destiny. I followed a red comet and it led me to you. Now our paths in life are woven together. We won't be lost anymore. Our path leads to Westeros, to the Iron throne, to the restoration of House Targaryen. I need you with me Jon."

Watching and listening to her, Jon could see how she could command the respect of an entire khalasar despite being a young girl, even younger than him. Without really thinking and debating he simply replied "Yes."

She smiled, almost relieved, and linked his arm. They continued to walk the gardens. Jon remained silent. It dawned on him the magnitude of what he had just consented to. It felt like a dream, like something not real, and yet he could feel the grass brush against his feet and the warmth of Daenaerys Targaryen against his arm. He kept expecting to wake but he didn't.

Daenaerys broke this silence "I am no longer welcome in Qarth after what happened with the warlocks. Illyrio sent three ships with Ser Barristan and we are going to take them and leave this place at first light tomorrow. Ser Arthur has already pledged his sword to me so he will be relieved to learn you are coming too."

"What do I call you?" Jon suddenly blurted out.

"Excuse me?" she replied

Jon knew he was speaking fast but couldn't stop himself. "Should it be Your Grace? Princess? Khaleesi? Daenaerys? Aunt?"

She smiled broadly, seeming to appreciate Jon's current state of shock. "The only family I ever knew used to call me Dany. But it is up to you?"

Jon thought before answering "I have never had an Aunt so how about Aunt Dany?"

"Perfect. I've never had a nephew either you know. I like it." She grasped his arm tighter as they strolled. Jon felt surprisingly at ease with her intimacy, it felt right.

They rounded a corner and came upon a Dothraki handmaiden sat on a patch of grass watching one of the dragons. The creature was about the size of a dog, as black as the dead of night with red eyes of fire. It was hunting a leaf that moved in the gentle breeze, stalking it slowly and menacingly. The handmaiden had not seen Daenaerys and she twirled her hair and spoke to the dragon in Dothraki tongue.

Daenaerys halted their walk and they maintained their position to watch the dragon at play.

She spoke quietly "Drogon. The most bold of my dragons. He is bigger than the others and it was his flame that burnt the warlock's house to ash."

"Do they not scare you Aunt Dany?" Jon asked.

Daenaerys responded confidently "Why would a mother fear her children? A dragon does not fear anything, even another dragon."

Drogon clearly heard Daenaerys as it turned, spotted her and abandoned the leaf, trotting towards their position. The handmaiden also became aware of their presence and spoke to Daenaerys in her Dothraki tongue, to which his aunt responded in kind. Jon however didn't take his eyes of Drogon, the panic at the oncoming beast starting to take hold. From his lessons he learned that dragons were the most destructive force in history, capable of destroying entire kingdoms and armies single handed. And now one was coming towards him with interest in his eyes. It may not be fully grown but it still destroyed the Palace of Dust, meaning it was still dangerous.

"Don't be nervous, remember you are a dragon too." Daenaerys whispered him his ear as Drogon approached.

The dragon sniffed Jon's foot then raised himself up on his hind legs, balancing by resting his front two legs on Jon's. He sniffed at Jon's crotch and up and down his legs, seeming to recognise something in his scent. Jon remained motionless, doing his best not to shake and let his nerves get the better of him. Drogon raised his head to look at Jon's face, though Jon dared not meet the creature's eyes straight away but slowly lowered his head to do so. The deep red slits peered at Jon for what felt an age before he snorted and dropped down to walk on all four feet. Jon exhaled in relief just as Drogon began to rub his body against Jon's leg. Before Jon knew what he was doing he went to his knees and stroked the dragon like it was a common cat wandering the Qarth harbour. His initial fear seemed to have disappeared as he bonded with Drogon. If he thought about what he was doing he would have collapsed in fear so he just carried on caressing the beast carefully but firmly.

Daenaerys watched on approvingly and said "If anyone doubts the word of Ser Arthur then I would show them this. You are of Dragon blood, just as I am. This is proof."

Jon smiled back at her as he rubbed gently under Drogon's chin "Maybe he just likes me?"

She shook her head smiling and replied "You know nothing Jon Sand."


	19. Chapter 19

_Firstly apologies: I have just realised I have been incorrectly spelling Daenerys in my previous chapters – mistake corrected going forward. I'm very annoyed at myself I assure you!_

_Many thanks for all the reviews – you are a good bunch!_

Disclaimer – if you recognise it then it belongs to GRRM

Daenerys I

It was like an aerial dance. The dragons flew and rolled around the skies, wrestling with each other. The green of Rhaegal flashed by, closely followed by the golden white of Viserion. The competed with each other on everything - who was faster, who could climb highest, who could descend closest to the water's surface without slowing down. They had an audience for their display as most of the crew of each ship loved to watch when not at their duties.

Daenerys knew that there would be no contest if all her three dragons were here though. Drogon was the largest of the three and by far the most aggressive. His development seemed to be always a few steps ahead of the others and whilst Viserion and Rhaegal had only learned to take flight whilst they were at sea, Drogon had started back in Qarth and currently could only just be sighted in the far distance hunting. Someone would occasionally see a black flash smash the ocean in the distance and Daenerys knew it was Drogon killing the flying fish.

Daenerys stood on the deck of Balerion, the great cog previously known as Saduleon, and let the sun smile down on her. She loved seeing the dragons happy and free but her heart was still heavy with sadness at Ser Jorah. Seeing him stood alone at the Qarth harbour while the ship moved away was one of the saddest sights she had ever seen.

"I had no choice." Daenerys thought as she leaned over the ships side and looked down into the clear blue waters. Once she heard of Ser Jorah's deceit, it was clear that he could no longer be trusted, despite his pleading that he had changed and was now "her man until his last breath."

He was cast out of Xaro's manse and spent his time hanging around outside, hoping for any sight of her. When they all made for the harbour to leave Qarth he followed, pleading with Daenerys for another chance. Once he realised his words were having no effect, he tried to force his way onboard, only to be repelled by a punch from Ser Barristan. It took all of Daenery's strength not to cry at the sight of her once most trusted companion sat on the floor nursing a bloody broken nose, a defeated man.

"Are you ok Your Grace?"

Ser Barristan took her out of her thoughts. She turned and faced the legendary knight. He had shaved the long white beard and looked much younger and tougher as a result. His deep blue eyes looked at her almost fatherly, it made a change from the more lustful looks that Ser Jorah had sent her way.

"I am just thinking of Ser Jorah. Was it the right decision Ser Barristan?"

"It is not my place to debate your decisions Your Grace." he replied carefully.

"Please speak freely." Daenerys asked.

"Then I believe it was entirely the correct decision Your Grace. The man was willing to sell your life for a pardon. No matter what he claimed once his deceit was exposed, you could never have been sure of his loyalty again."

Whilst she respected and agreed with Ser Barristan's opinion, it still made her heart ache. She didn't want to discuss it anymore. "If you would Ser Barristan, will you tell me more about Rhaegar?"

Ser Barristan smiled "Of course Your Grace."

Daenerys motioned to Jon who came and joined her as Ser Barristan began to tell them of the Rhaegar's win at a tourney in Lannisport. Ser Arthur soon joined them, chipping in with additional details. Both spoke very fondly of Rhaegar and the respect they had for the deceased Prince and for each other was clear to see.

See Arthur had also shaved his whiskers and looked a new man. The fabled greatsword Dawn was held across his back, in its rightful place after years of being hidden away. He had told Daenerys his full tale and the truth of Jon back in Qarth after he had slain the assassin. Had the story have come from another man Daenerys would have collected his head but coming from the Sword of the Morning she believed every word. Ser Willem had told Daenerys of the great Ser Arthur Dayne when she was growing up, though she had never thought that she would have ever gotten to meet him as no one knew of his whereabouts after the Usurper's rebellion. It spoke highly of his reputation that she had been warned of betrayals by the warlocks yet she did not consider Ser Arthur to be a likely candidate.

Of course there was only one betrayal left to be committed. First Mirri betrayed her in revenge for the blood of her village then Ser Jorah betrayed her for gold and a return to his home. There was only a betrayal of love remaining and her suspicions naturally fell on Jon. His sudden appearance in her life and the ease at which he claimed no desire to take the Throne before Daenerys seemed too good to be true.

However Daenerys had grown fond Jon in past few days in spite of her planned wariness and caution. He was a calm and warm character and certainly did not appear to have any ulterior motives. Also seeing all of her three dragon's behaviour around Jon confirmed he was of dragon's blood, of that she had no doubt. He had listened to Ser Barristan's tales of Westeros along with herself and seemed genuinely interested to learn about his father Rhaegar. His warmth towards her was in stark contrast to the coolness he showed Ser Arthur, though at least he had stopped ignoring him now and had grown to responding monosyllabically.

The warlock's words still played on her mind though and she remained adamant that she would sit on the Iron throne alone. She let him call her "Aunt Dany", despite it seeming ludicrous considering the size of him compared to her and also him being a year older, because it kept her position as the defacto head of House Targaryen clear to all, something Jon had seemingly not picked up on. She also ensured his name was to remain Jon Sand and never referred to him openly as Jon Targaryen to further ensure all knew she was the rightful ruler. She did plan to legitimise Jon but only when her position on the throne was secure. Daenerys didn't like herself for manipulating Jon like this but it was a necessary course of action. She liked to believe his innocence was not an act but after Miri and Ser Jorah, she could not allow herself to be betrayed again so easily.

Just as Ser Barristan finished his tale, with Rhaegar beating Tygett Lannister in the final to win the joust, a loud voice boomed from the back of Balerion.

"Strong Belwas is HUNGRY!"

All turned to see that the huge pit fighter had emerged from below the decks. The man was a colossus, all belly and muscle. He spotted Ser Barristan and shouted "Whitebeard! Bring Strong Belwas food!"

Even though he had shaved his beard and been confirmed as a knight, Strong Belwas still refered to Ser Barristan as Whitebeard and still considered him his squire. Ser Barristan however humbly still served the giant eunuch as his squire, even when Daenerys offered one of her Dothraki to take his place.

"Let your people relax on the sea," Ser Barristan had said, "they are being very brave in just boarding the ships. I can squire for Strong Belwas until we reach land."

As Ser Barristan moved to go find Belwas something to eat, the eunuch moved to a pile of sandbags and sat down by dropping onto them with abandon. Daenerys feared the ship would capsize at the sheer size of the man but it remained stable. He smiled at her, exposing his yellow stained teeth, before turning to Ser Arthur who he called Whitesword, no doubt in reference to Dawn.

"Whitesword. When does ship reach land? Strong Belwas tired of moaning horses."

Daenerys knew he was referring to the horses that stamped and cried below decks, desperate to be free on the plains and off the poison water. The riders felt something very similar. Ser Arthur shrugged and responded "I do not know Strong Belwas, it depends where our destination is."

Belwas turned to Daenerys "Little Queen, where we sailing to?"

It was the question that Daenerys had been considering ever since they left Qarth. Illyrio had sent the ships to bring her back to Pentos, a move that would guarantee safety and time to let the dragons grow. But Daenerys couldn't help feel that was a backwards step. She desired to sail for Westeros, find allies and begin her conquest but feared this was too bold a move. She was torn and felt it was a decision she could not make on her own.

"Jon, what do you think?" She asked, interested to see what his response would be.

He gave the matter some thought before responding "I believe I would sail for Westeros Aunt Dany."

"Why?" she asked.

"You have waited long enough to reclaim your rightful place. The Usurper kept you from the throne and now his son does too. We should not let him get comfortable in your seat." Jon answered with passion.

"But is it not too soon? Should we not head for Pentos and wait till the dragons are more grown?"

Jon considered this and replied "It may be Illyrio Mopatis's city but Pentos may not be safe. Too many men can be bought for gold in Pentos, it is very similar to Qarth. I would head for Dorne who are loyal friends to House Targaryen and, according to Ser Barristan, have no love for the Usurper or his son. You will be as safe there as in any of the Free Cities and you can start to create alliances whilst the dragons grow."

"Wise council." Ser Arthur said, nodding in agreement. Jon merely nodded at Ser Arthur, saying nothing.

Ser Barristan returned with some salted pork for Belwas, who grabbed at it and started to devour it greedily without a word of thanks for his "squire." Once he had finished with the eunuch, Ser Barristan joined them and said "Sorry to be presumous Your Grace but I overheard and I also concur with Jon."

Daenerys suddenly remembered a previous conversation with Ser Jorah. "What about Slavers Bay? We could head there and buy an army so we do not have to rely on finding allies in Westeros?"

The looks the spread across the faces of all three men told Daenerys that this was not a popular idea. Ser Arthur looked disappointed, Ser Barristan's face contorted in disgust like he had swallowed a lemon whole whilst Jon just looked mad. It was Ser Barristan who spoke first, anger in his voice. "Was this the idea of Ser Jorah…. Your Grace?"

She nodded and Ser Barristan continued "Remember Ser Jorah was a slaver himself Your Grace. He may not see the wrong in owning and selling another person like livestock but the vast majority of the Seven Kingdoms will. Both the Old Gods and the New see slavery as abhorrent and evil. By arriving in Westeros with an army of slaves, many will see you as a foreign invader, not the rightful queen."

"I know it may not be palatable," Daenerys replied, "but I will not be simply given the throne if I smile and ask nicely. I need an army and currently your only suggestions involve reliance on others to provide one for me."

Ser Arthur spoke up "You can rely on Dorne Your Grace. I know I have not been there for many years but I am confident that they will raise their banners for you. House Martell will have never forgotten or forgiven what happened to Princess Elia."

"The may be Ser Arthur, but again it is risking everything on Lords who bent the knee to the Usurper." Daenery said.

"They had no choice," Ser Arthur stated, "if they did not it would have been their destruction."

Before Daenerys could reply, Jon spoke up. "Would Rhaegar have ever consented to lead an army of slaves?"

The two knights looked at each other and Ser Barristan eventually said "No."

The Sword of the Morning elaborated "Rhaegar despised slavery. He believed all men should be free to define and forge their own destiny, be it great or humble."

Jon turned to face Daenerys "I think that tells us the right thing to do. We have heard how your brother, my father, was a great man, cut down before he could reverse the fortunes of House Targaryen. You should aim to rule as he would have done, and having a slave army is not something he would have agreed with. For the honour of your House Aunt Dany, abandon any thoughts of Slavers Bay and head to Westeros."

Daenerys felt a small tear build in her eye and roll down her cheek. She embraced Jon, hugging him tightly like she used to with Viserys before he became so bitter. Eventually she pulled away and said softly "Our House Jon, it's our House not just mine."

Her mind had been made up. "Ser Barristan, please inform Captain Groleo that we sail for Dorne!"


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer – if you recognise it then it belongs to GRRM

Catelyn VI

"How is your vennison Lady Stark?"

"Absolutely delicious thanks My Lord."

"Please, call me Tywin. I see no need for such formalities when it is just the two of us."

Catelyn smiled and felt her cheeks redden slightly. Tywin looked at her and returned her smile with a slight arch of his lips before he returned to his meal. Catelyn had learned he was not a big talker but the silences between them as they ate did not feel strained or awkward – they felt relaxed, almost intimate.

Catelyn had been invited to dine with Tywin in the Tower of the Hand. It was her first night back in the capital since the trip to Highgarden. Catelyn wore her black dress, to show mourning, and tied her hair up in a Southron style. She was tired from the travelling but still accepted the invitation. Whilst she once found Tywin intimidating, she now thought of him in a warmer light. He had been the first to come visit Robb the day after the feast and he had been nothing but kind towards Catelyn and her son. She believed that below the hard demeanour he displayed in public, there was a softer and caring man underneath. A part of her wanted to get to know that man.

Catelyn had accompanied Robb and the Tyrell host back to their seat to lay Margaery's bones to rest. Aside from herself and Robb, the Tyrell's had permitted no others to attend the funeral, mainly due to the question of her poisoner still being unanswered. The youngest Tyrell, Ser Loras, saw her killer in everyone and refused to let anyone outside the family follow them to Highgarden, though he had relented when Robb had begged him to be able to go with Catelyn and see his beloved lay to rest. They had not lingered long in Highgarden, the day following the funeral the Tyrell's returned to Kings Landing in order to continue their investigation into Margaerys death and bring the guilty to justice. In particular the Knight of Flowers seemed obsessed with finding the murderer.

Robb had the same desire to discover those responsible though Catelyn knew the anger was tempered by heartbreak. He was withdrawn again, just like after Daryn's passing, only this time Catelyn knew it would last a great deal longer. She remembered her mourning for Brandon and the sheer time it took her to feel better again. It saddened her immensely that Robb would have to go through the same mourning for a love lost too soon.

As if he was reading her mind Tywin asked "How is Ser Robb faring?"

"He is still in mourning for his Lady Margaery." Catelyn replied

"To lose one's love at such a young age. What happened was terrible and I will do everything in my power to serve justice to those responsible." Tywin spoke firmly.

"Ser Robb and I am thankful for your help Tywin. Has any progress been made?"

Tywin responded negatively "Everyone who was in attendance has been questioned, though that has not yielded any answers. Lord Varys has been named as taking the cup from Lady Margaery's hand but no-one is sure who gave it her back or if she simply picked it up herself. There was much merriment in the throne room that night and many sore heads the following morning, which unfortunately leads to poor recollections and hazy memories."

"What does Lord Varys have to say?" Catelyn asked

"He is not used to drinking and claims to not remember anything about the night. After seeing his appearance the next day I am inclined to believe him." Tywin replied as he poured her more Arbor red.

"No sorry Tywin, I mean has Lord Varys' network discovered anything?" Catelyn corrected.

"Ah I understand," Tywin replied, "No they have not discovered anything substantial either. He has informed me of whispers amongst the smallfolk but these are absurd stories of vengeful ironborn survivors, Dornish assassins and…..other nonsense."

Catelyn sensed his hesitance but she urged him "You can tell me Tywin."

Tywin paused then said "There is talk amongst the commoners that it was the King's revenge on Ser Robb for stealing Lady Margaery away. Which is certainly not true as the King was no-where near the throne room when she died and, whilst he can be a spoilt child at times, he does not have the vicious nature of a killer. As I said, nonsense."

"He may have not done the deed personally but he could have ordered someone to do it." Catelyn thought but did not say openly. She did not like King Joffrey at all but perhaps Tywin was right and he was just an ill-tempered boy. She did believe that Tywin was an honest man and she had yet found no reason to doubt his word.

In truth she was as confused as everyone as to why anyone would poison Margaery, which led Catelyn to the next logical answer.

"Maybe Lady Margaery was not the intended target," Catelyn said, lowering her voice even though there was only Tywin in the room, "there was much confusion and swapping of cups. Maybe she was just unfortunate to drink from the wrong cup."

"I too have considered this Lady Stark. It only gives more questions than answers, like who was the intended target?"

"My son." Catelyn answered, admitting her worst fears.

"A possibility," Tywin said, "He has made enemies and the prestigious start to his knighthood will inspire envy and jealousy. However he also has many friends and admirers so I do not believe he would be a likely target. Just to be safe I would advise him to not wander alone and to always carry his steel. I can also provide a taster for his food and drink if it would sooth you Lady Stark."

Catelyn declined his offer, safe in the knowledge that Torrhen and Domeric had both taken it upon themselves to taste Robb's food and drink already. The boys and Brynden had also ensured he never was left alone outside of his bedchamber.

"How long do you plan to remain at Kings Landing?" Tywin asked her.

"My son does not wish to return to Winterfell until those responsible for Margaery's death are brought to justice."

"And you Lady Stark?" he asked with interest in his eyes.

"I will remain here in Kings Landing with Robb." She replied.

Tywin looked happy by this. "Whilst I know the reasons for you remaining in the capital are far from good, I am glad at your continued presence here." He stated, again allowing the faintest of smiles to emerge. Catelyn felt herself blush once more and did her best to conceal it by taking a long drink from her cup.

Catelyn changed the topic quickly and they spent the rest of the evening discussing various affairs of state. Tywin did not dumb anything down for Catelyn, something her father Hoster used to do that drove her mad, and he asked her opinion many times. He was a charming, attentive host and the evening flew by. She had agreed to dine with Tywin again in the next few days before she left his solar. Tywin summoned Ser Trant to accompany Catelyn back to her bedchamber, kissing her hand softly as she departed.

Catelyn walked briskly through the Red Keep, trying to keep pace with the Kingsguard who clearly did not want to be escorting anyone. Her thoughts remained on Tywin and how she could feel herself being drawn to him. She could imagine the laughter of Lysa if she told her that. Her sister had complained to her constantly about the woes of being married to an older Lord and how she felt her youth and beauty (of which Lysa believed she had in abundance) was wasted on her late husband. Whilst Catelyn had only heard good things of Lord Arryn, she did sympathise with her sister as she too believed that being married to an elder lord would likely be very dutiful with little passion. Yet Tywin, who was over twenty years older than herself, seemed to be full of hidden depths that he kept concealed. Catelyn had only ever lay with one man a single time, so she had not experienced any real romantic passion in her life. She had never felt like she was truly missing anything until recently, Tywin seemed to stir emotions and feelings in her that she thought were buried with Brandon.

Yet she felt at unease with her growing feelings. The reputation of Tywin Lannister throughout Westeros was one of a ruthless unmerciful Lord, a man who craves respect and power. He has destroyed Houses in the Westerlands who defied him, crushed his enemies into dust and was even rumoured to have ordered his men to kill Princess Elia and her children at the Sack of Kings Landing. Yet Catelyn could not bring herself to believe this was truly him. Why did she not see this in Tywin? Was she just being blinded by his charm and intelligence? Or was she just one of the few who have spent time with him and has gotten to know his true nature? She could not be sure but she wanted to keep trying to find out.

Ser Trant brought her out of her thoughts with an annoyed cough. They had arrived at her chambers. Catelyn opened the door and thanked the knight for his escort, though he only grunted in response and walked off into the distance leaving her alone. Remembering the advice of Brynden she immediately locked the door. She retreated back into the spacious room and looked out of the window. It overlooked Blackwater Bay and Catelyn watched the ships manoeuvring around each other, entering and leaving the port. The Bay wasn't especially crowded but the treacherous currents that led into the Rush meant that some waters were avoided by all. The royal fleet was currently at the Iron Islands so there were only a few Dromonds patrolling the waters. The sun had crossed the horizon and the remnants of its light illuminated the water, the waves glistening like they were made of dragonglass.

"The sun sets on another day like nothing has happened."

Catelyn nearly jumped out of her skin at the voice. Instinctively she grabbed a candlestick from the window ledge and turned ready to strike. She lowered her weapon though when she saw who it was.

"Lady Olenna?" She said as if it was a question, though her eyes had already answered.

"Your sight is fine Lady Stark. I can see your arms are too. Please put down that heavy candlestick, I mean you no harm." The Queen of Thorns hobbled towards a chair next to the table and sat herself down slowly. Catelyn did not move an inch, keeping the candlestick firmly in hand.

Once sat down Lady Olenna looked up at Catelyn and snapped "Will you put down the candlestick for Gods' sake. You are going to want to sit for what I have to say."

"What are you here for?" Catelyn asked whilst scanning the room for any other people.

"To apologise."

It was not what Catelyn expected to hear. She looked directly at Lady Olenna and saw no malice in her face, only sadness. It calmed her down and she replaced the candlestick and sat down opposite her visitor.

A thought came to Catelyn. "How did you get in here?" She asked.

"Through the door." Olenna replied very sternly.

"But I locked it."

An exasperated Olenna snapped back "Doors have more than one key. Are you going to waste my time asking stupid questions or are you going to shut up and listen?"

Catelyn felt sufficiently cowed and did not answer. Lady Olenna composed herself and began to speak. "The Tyrells are a noble house and have ruled the Reach since the dragons burned Mern Gardener and Harlan Tyrell had the good sense to surrender to Aegon the Conqueror before he suffered the same fate. It was a sensible decision and House Tyrell was granted dominion over the Reach ever since. Like our words say, we have grown in wealth and power throughout the ages and by the days of my late husband we were arguably the third strongest house of Westeros after the Targaryens, despite their inbreeding, and the Lannisters."

Catelyn was relatively aware of all this already but continued to listen, wondering where all this was leading.

"There have been some great Lord Tyrells throughout history, like Leo Tyrell who ruled Highgarden when Daeron II sat atop the Throne. My late husband Luthor was not a great Lord Tyrell. Yes he was kind but he was stupid. I mean the man rode off a cliff to his death! His sole talent was the size of his cock."

It was a testament to how intrigued Catelyn was with this conversation that she did not blush at Lady Olenna's language.

"Our son Mace followed Luthor as Lord Tyrell. Mace makes Luthor look as smart as a grand maester so that tells you just how thick my son is. That man would struggle to find his arse with two hands. Yet another Lord Tyrell far from greatness. Thank the Seven he was fertile. His first son Willas is a very intelligent boy and were it not for that Dornish snake he would be the next great Lord Tyrell. Unfortunately a cripple will never be seen as great and that may be a harsh fact but it is a fact regardless. Garlan came next and he is far too kind and generous to ever be great. Loras is the final son. That boy believes he is great because he is beautiful and can wield a lance well but he loves himself, and Renly Baratheon, too much. That leaves Margaery."

Olenna's eyes began to tear at the memory of Margaery. "My Granddaughter would obviously never be a Lord Tyrell but she had the potential to be great. She had all of her brother's strengths, none of their weaknesses. I saw this from when she first began to walk and talk, so I taught her everything I knew. She was so sharp and shrewd….she fulfilled her potential and she was great. But being a woman her destiny would lie in her marriage."

Catelyn finally spoke up "She would have been a wonderful wife to my son."

"Without a doubt. But I'm sure you know that was not the marriage I wanted for her. I wanted her to be Queen, a position where her greatness could be seen by all. A position where should could have power. A position where she would have opportunity to shape the future of the realm and leave a lasting memory. Queen Alysanne is still remembered to this day and Margaery could have surpassed her tenfold. I'd groomed her to be King Joffrey's bride but she fell in love with Robb Stark. Yes your son is comely and gallant but she was sacrificing her chance for greatness to live in cold barren North producing young wolves. I implored her to reconsider but her heart had made the choice for her. So I knew I had to intervene. Which brings me to why I am here, to say sorry to you."

"I'm not following you." Catelyn replied puzzled.

"I want to say sorry for trying to poison your son." Olenna said looking directly into Catelyn's eyes.

Part of Catelyn wanted to grab the silver candlestick again and crush the old lady's head in till she was dead. But she sat there in shock at the admission. Eventually she managed to respond "So Margaery wasn't the intended target."

Tears rolled down the Queen of Thorns cheeks. "No. The poison was placed in your son's cup but somehow they were switched and Margaery….It was just so rowdy in there, I don't know how it happened. With Robb dead, Margaery would have been free to become Queen."

The anger finally rose in Catelyn "So you would have KILLED MY SON! Just to get your Granddaughter on the throne, even though she did not want it? You are EVIL and will ROT in the Seven Hells for your actions!"

Lady Olenna replied calmly "There is no possible suffering that can be worse that what I am feeling now, knowing I have killed the person I loved the most. I truth I did not consider you when I planned to poison your son but knowing what it feels like to lose her, I would not have ever wished for you to suffer like this if you had lost your son. Which is why I am apologising, for being willing to cause you pain like this."

"Well if you are after forgiveness then you are sorely mistaken." Catelyn raged

"I am not here for that, I just wanted you to know the truth. I was not alone in the act. I provided the poison but someone else arranged for it to be placed in your son's cup."

"Who?"

"Queen Cersei. She had not overlooked the slight on King Joffrey from your son by stealing Margaery away. She approached me soon after the betrothal was announced and we plotted your son's end. I gave her the poison at the feast and one of her people must have placed it in the cup."

Catelyn leaned back in her chair in a stunned silence. It all seemed unreal, like a vicious nightmare come to life. The way these women viewed life and death was frightening and it seemed sheer luck had saved Robb.

Lady Olenna pulled a small dark stone from her pocket and placed it on the table. It looked like a gemstone cut in half. "The Strangler, a rare poison from Essos. The other half of this was dropped into your sons drink. As you saw it is a horrid death." The thought flashed to Catelyn to grab the crystal and force it down the old lady's throat, just to make her suffer. But she didn't. Instead Lady Olenna produced a small parchment, sealed with the rose of Highgarden, and placed it next to the poison on the table.

"This is for you. Everything I have told you tonight is written in here, including the involvement of the fair Queen Regent." Olenna said as a cynical smile briefly emerged. The look made Catelyn feel like something was amiss, like she was being manipulated by Lady Olenna.

"What do I want this for?" Catelyn asked.

"Do with it what you want." Olenna replied nonchalantly.

The Queen of Thorns picked up the poison, observing it in the light like it was a precious diamond. "Now this…this is for me." Olenna said before quickly shoving the Strangler into her mouth and swallowing the entire thing. Almost immediately she began to cough and splutter. She smiled at Catelyn before starting to convulse violently, thrashing about in the chair like it was burning her. Catelyn swiftly stood up and grabbed the parchment from the table, just as Lady Olenna crashed into it wildly, causing her nose to burst open. She began to move towards her in order to help but stopped and instead watched the elderly woman turn a dark shade of purple and slowly die in what looked like agony.

"She would have let Robb die, she does not deserve any help." Catelyn thought to herself.

After what seemed a long time, Lady Olenna's body stopped twitching and remained slumped in the chair. Dark red blood dribbled out of her mouth, joined by the steady stream coming from her broken nose. Her already small body seemed to disappear beneath the green robes that she wore.

Catelyn walked away from the corpse and looked at the parchment. It was the only proof of what happened to Margaery. She was torn on what to do with this information. Her first thought was to take this to Robb but she feared he may react in anger and cause further deaths including his own. Another thought said to show this to Tywin so he may act on this as Hand of the King and investigate whether Cersei truly was involved. She believed he would as he above all else was honourable but would punish her if she was found to have played a part.

She thought on this for a long time before she made her decision.


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer – If you recognise it then it belongs to GRRM

Jon VI

It was not the welcome they expected.

"What are you doing here?" Doran Martell said, glaring at them all from his chair like they were common poachers caught trespassing on his land. The broad shouldered man with white hair who stood behind the Prince kept his hand firmly on a giant axe, seemingly willing any one of their party to make a wrong move. Guards were stationed all around the circular room, creating a ring of steel. Daenerys stood firm, flanked by Aggo and Ser Arthur. Jon kept himself to the side. He had suggested that he should remain on the ships and help Ser Barristan guard the dragons but Daenerys insisted he accompany her to meet with the ruling Prince of Dorne.

Daenerys looked shocked by the Prince's reaction. She had predicted to Jon on the short ride to Sunspear from Planky Town that a mighty, if secretive, feast would be hastily arranged to celebrate their arrival. All they had actually received was an armed escort to a cold reception.

"You know who I am?" Daenerys asked incredulously.

"Of course I do Daenerys Targaryen. But again I ask, what are you doing here?" Doran replied sternly.

Jon could see Daenerys was mad. She spoke sharply "I would think that is obvious. But in case it is not, I am here to request the help of House Martell and Dorne in reclaiming my rightful throne."

The Prince looked at her in puzzlement. "But it is not your throne to reclaim. Where is your brother Viserys?"

Daenerys said a single word "dead" before she began to tell the full story of her marriage to Khal Drogo, Viserys' death, her unborn son, the dragons and arriving at Qarth, meeting Jon, Ser Arthur and Ser Barristan.

Doran seemed to take it all in before he replied "So all you have brought to conquer Westeros is two lost knights, a Targaryen bastard who looks nothing like his father, a small Dothraki horde and three dragons small enough to be caged and not yet ready to enter battle. Hardly a conquering army, I expected more." Jon heard the insult directed at him but did not react.

"What do you mean?" Daenerys asked.

Doran then spoke of a secret pact signed years ago promising Viserys the full backing of Dorne if he were to wed his daughter Arianne. Daenerys was meant to marry Khal Drogo and bring the full might of his Khalasar to join the Dornishmen to create a truly powerful army that could retake the throne for Viserys.

It was Daenerys' turn to ponder this information, which she did before responding "Why was I not aware of this plot?"

"You and your brother were both not informed as it was felt that your brother may not have the necessary patience to wait till the time was right. It would seem impatience is something that runs in the blood." Doran stated somewhat harshly.

"We were no longer welcome in Qarth, what would you suggest we have done?" Daenerys asked, the fire in her blood starting to come to the surface.

Doran's voice raised in volume. "Go to Pentos or somewhere remote in Essos and give your dragons time to grow. Marry another horselord in order to grow your Dothraki horde. Find sellswords to hire. Basically do anything aside from what you have done - arrive in Westeros far too soon!"

Though he did not speak the common tongue, Aggo picked up on the tone of Prince Doran and stepped forward to shout something back at him. There was a collective unsheathing of swords in the room, every Dornish guard looked ready to strike. Aggo looked positively ready to fight them all until Daenerys calmed him down with some soft words in his native tongue. Jon realised he had instinctively drawn his own sword and hastily put it away as well, lest one of the guards find reason to cut his throat.

It was Doran who spoke up once the commotion died down. Is tone was much more humble. "I apologise Daen...Your Grace. The welcome afforded you has not been worthy of your noble station. It is just the shock of your sudden arrival with Rhaegar's bastard and-"

"Jon," Daenerys interrupted, "his name is Jon."

"Of course Your Grace. I meant no disrespect. We did not expect you to land in Westeros for some time and yet here you are, without your brother but with a nephew and the Sword of the Morning, long thought dead. And Dragons! Incredible."

Daenerys started to calm. "I too apologise for not sending word of our impending arrival. I feared to send anything in writing in case it was intercepted by agents of the boy king. Perhaps I was impatient but I yearn to take my rightful place atop the Iron Throne, just as I am sure you yearn for vengeance against those who murdered Princess Elia and her children, my nephews Rhaenys and Aegon."

"Very clever." Jon thought. He could see the expression change on Prince Doran's face as memories flooded his mind. He remained composed however. "Of course House Martell will support Your Grace but, and forgive me for saying this Your Grace, the time is not right for you to start a war against the throne."

"Why not?" Daenerys asked.

"The Throne is too strong, it is the strongest it has been since the early reign of your father. The Stags and Lions who back the boy king have forged strong alliances with the Wolves of Winterfell, the Roses of Highgarden, the Trouts of Riverrun and the Vale. These alliances have already destroyed the Krakens when they dared oppose them. To put it simply even with the power of Dorne behind you, it will not be enough."

Absolute disappointment spread across Daenerys' face. "There must be something that can be done."

"There is Your Grace. Their greater numbers will count for nothing against three fully grown dragons, the battle on the Field of Fire during Aegon's conquest has taught us that. But your dragons need time and space to grow to a size where they could cause that level of destruction."

Though Jon agreed, the thought of men dying, burned alive in their armour, made him feel queasy. It reminded him again how dragons were the most dangerous weapon in recorded history, and Jon was only playing fetch with them the previous day. He felt that Daenerys did not appreciate just how deadly they were to everyone, even her, and he resolved to never forget and let that power fall into the wrong hands.

Doran continued "In the meantime you have friends at Kings Landing who are working towards breaking up these alliances. Word of your arrival will only redouble their efforts in fracturing the bonds between these Houses. In addition I can begin to mobilise Dorne, quietly and discretely, so our armies can be ready when the time comes."

"But we can count on no other allies." Daenerys asked.

"Not at the moment. But many of these Houses once rallied behind House Targaryen and I believe would do so again, should the timing be right. Currently only one man openly opposes the Iron Throne and he has just made his first move." Doran said, producing a small parchment. Jon saw that the seal was a stag.

Daenerys took the parchment, reading it through carefully twice before responding "This was written by the Usurper's brother, Stannis Baratheon. Therefore if what he says is true, in his eyes that would make him the rightful heir. Surely that suggests he only makes the claims as he wants the Iron throne for himself."

"Stannis Baratheon is very different to his brother Robert. Above all else he is a man driven only by duty, honour and justice, even if it leads to taking the harder road. I do not believe that he has an ulterior motive Your Grace or that he does not truly believe what he has written here." Doran replied.

Jon spoke up "What does Stannis write?"

Doran faced him. "He has written to every major House from the Wall to the Summer Sea, informing them that King Joffrey and his younger sister and brother are not Robert's children. In fact they are the result of coupling between Queen Cersei and her twin, the Kingslayer Jamie Lannister. He cites the lack of Robert's appearance in the children when compared to Edric Storm, his only acknowledged bastard, as proof. I have personally not seen the children but I understand they are green eyed and golden haired – Lannister's through and through with nothing Baratheon about them."

"Why has he only written of this now?" Jon queried the elderly Prince.

"Until recently he was lay under siege at Dragonstone from the Throne as a result of his failure to come to bend the knee to the boy king. As soon as the royal fleet left to go finish off the Iron Islands, he sent out his ravens. I wondered why Stannis would not go pledge fealty to his brother's son, guess I have my answer now."

"Would he rally to my cause?" Daenerys asked.

The Prince pondered this, caressing his soft white hair between his fingers, before answering "I do not know Your Grace. Predicting the mind-set of Stannis Baratheon is not an easy feat. But either way, his message is out there now and this could help create cracks in the Throne's alliances. Great Houses have great ambitions and no doubt word of the boy kings illegitimacy will kindle thoughts of replacing him with one of their own."

"Even if they have no rightful claim to the throne?" Daenerys said with a look of disdain.

"Forgive me Your Grace," Doran replied carefully, "but Robert Baratheon set a precedent. He overthrew nearly three hundred years of Targaryen kings and ruled uncontested till his death. He showed others it was possible. A rightful claim is not as important as a claim backed by plenty of steel."

Arthur spoke up "Let them bleed each other dry Your Grace. The Tyrells have always been ambitious, the Baratheons fiercely proud and the Lannisters ruthless in their pursuit of power. They will fight and kill each other to be able to claim the Iron Throne."

Doran nodded "Well said Ser Arthur. They will weaken each other whilst we strengthen Your Grace. Your dragons need time to grow and we can ensure they have that."

Daenerys seemed to accept this and after some thought she said "I thank you Prince Doran for your wise council and the support of your House. When I claim the throne your loyalty will not be forgotten."

Doran replied quickly "All we would ask Your Grace is justice for my sister and for you to consent to taking my son Quentin as your husband so that we may unite Houses Martell and Targaryen once again."

Daenerys considered her answer "Your sister will certainly be avenged and all those behind her death will pay with their lives. But I cannot consent to taking your son as my husband."

"I can assure Your Grace that Quentin is a comely strong man, highly capable and noble."

"Of that I have no doubt," Daenerys replied, "but I have already sold before - my maidenhead for an army. I was lucky that my husband was a good man otherwise things could have been different. That being said, I have no intention of selling myself ever. I intend to rule alone, never taking a husband."

"I see." Doran said, not giving anything away in his tone.

Daenerys had a solution though. "However I too wish to join our Houses once again. I have deigned Jon my heir and he will rule when I am gone. Why not wed Jon to your daughter Arianne so she may be his queen and birth the future heirs to the throne?"

"What?!" Jon said rather loudly. He wasn't sure he heard Daenerys correctly but the look on her face, and that of Prince Doran, suggested he had. All eyes in the room were on him now and he was stuck for words.

Thankfully Arthur spoke up and ended the awkward silence. "You must forgive Jon Prince Doran, he meant no disrespect. He has only just learned of his true heritage and until recently, I suspect he believed he would marry a common washerwoman or tavern girl and live a quiet life. Now it is being suggested that he is to marry a Dornish Princess! I hope you can understand how this is a lot to take in."

Jon's mid finally started to work again and he found his tongue "Yes please forgive me Prince Doran. As Ser Arthur says, I am still trying to fully grasp who I am. Like you said earlier, I look like no Targaryen and I have certainly never felt like anyone important. Yet now I am told that I have the blood of the dragon and I am heir to the Iron Throne. Of course I would not object to marrying your daughter Arianne but I must ask would she consent to marrying me?"

Doran burst out in a wheezing tired laughter, it almost sounded like half a cough. Once he finished he spoke to Jon "You are…..different Jon Sand. I will ask my daughter if she consents."

Before Jon could respond the door behind him swung open and slammed just as quickly. Jon turned and saw a tall lithe man with straight dark hair and eyes as dark to match. He held a stern expression as he surveyed the room. Only when his eyes landed on Arthur did he speak. "Ser Arthur Dayne, looking good for a dead man."

Arthur bowed slightly as he did to Doran earlier "Prince Oberyn, you look well my old friend. How are your four daughters?"

Jon remembered Arthur and Barristan discussing House Martell aboard Balerion. They had described Oberyn as hot headed and forceful, the opposite of his brother and now Jon could see why.

Oberyn smiled back at Arthur "There are eight now, each one is brilliant in her own way. It is good to see you again, I mourned when you did not return after the war had ended."

Next he turned to Daenerys, kissing her hand softly. "Your Grace, I have longed for this day. Last time I saw you was in Braavos when you were no more than three namedays old."

Daenerys was clearly surprised "I never knew."

"Nor were you meant to Your Grace. I signed the pact with Ser Willem promising your brother the hand of Arianne in return for Dorne's help in reclaiming the throne. I remember briefly watching your play in the gardens and wishing you could have had my daughters as your companions."

"Prince Oberyn, I have to tell you that my brot-"

Oberyn interrupted "Yes I heard, very sad news indeed. But no matter, you are here and Dorne will place you on the Iron Throne or die trying." This appeased Daenerys who smiled and thanked Oberyn for his loyalty.

Jon saw Doran's face and he clearly did not share the wild streak of his brother.

"And then there is you." Oberyn's face changed, almost contorted in anger as he moved to speak to Jon. The slits of his eyes seemed to darken even further and he surveyed Jon like a predator would its prey. He started to walk towards Jon and only stopped when they were practically nose to nose. Even up close his eyes were like bottomless pits, drawing all light into them.

"Jon Sand," Oberyn whispered softly but with much malice in his voice, "Rhaegar Targaryen's greatest mistake."

Oberyn let it linger there briefly, maintaining eye contact, before he whirled away in a flash of red and left the chamber, slamming the door again on the way out.

Doran was the first to speak "I must apologise for my brother. No-one was closer to our sister Elia than him and her death still haunts him to this day."

"Nothing to forgive." Jon muttered out, still trying to compose himself. He was starting to reassess his views on dragons being the most dangerous force in the world, he know thought the Oberyn Martell might be a rival to them.

Daenerys changed the subject "So what is our next move Prince Doran? I would seek your council."

"It is too dangerous for you to remain long at Sunspear, too many spies and people passing through. The Iron throne must not know of your presence in Westeros and of your dragons. You need somewhere to stay where you will not be found and your dragons can grow in peace." Doran said.

"Is there such a place?" Daenerys asked.

Prince Doran smiled and looked directly at Arthur.


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer – If you recognise it then it belongs to GRRM

Catelyn VII

It took five days before everyone was able to get everyone together to discuss what was written in Lady Olenna's confession. The sudden circulation around Kings Landing of Stannis Baratheon's letter questioning the parentage of King Joffrey had resulted in Tywin Lannister increasing the presence of the Gold Cloaks in every corner of the capital. He was rightly concerned with the common folk losing respect for their King and already he had sent three men from Flea Bottom to the Wall when they were caught drunkenly shouting abuse at the walls of the Red Keep. There was also talk of a troupe of puppeteers who performed a show in Fishmonger's Square about a pride of inbred and stupid lions – they were rumoured to have met the blade of Ser Ilyn Payne.

All the additional security and scrutiny made it difficult for any clandestine meetings to be arranged. There was no chance of having it take place within the Red Keep so they had to look elsewhere in the capital. Catelyn had initially planned to hire a docked ship at the harbour as a meeting place but the greedy captain had eventually made this not possible. It was Brynden who eventually came up with the idea of using the long abandoned dragonpit at the top of Rhaenys' hill. The cavernous ruin was isolated and did not appear to be on the patrol routes of the Goldcloaks.

Unfortunately in order to get there they had to go through Flea Bottom. This in turn meant travelling in disguise, so not to get recognised by anyone, and in smaller groups. Catelyn was escorted by Brynden, Torrhen and Perwyn whilst separately Robb went with Jory, Rodrik and Domeric. Catelyn wrapped herself in a plain maroon cowl and kept her head down as she was ushered through the crowds. Brynden kept a strong arm around her shoulder as he led the path through the narrow cobbled streets. She could hear a multitude of voices around her, the male ones selling various goods whilst the female voices either begged or prostituted themselves. Brynden responded to none and simply steered Catelyn and the boys towards their destination. After walking for a short time, Catelyn felt the path become steeper, there were fewer people around them and the smell of Flea Bottom all but disappeared. Only then did she dare look up and she realised they were ascending Rhaenys' hill towards the dragonpit.

The huge bronze doors of the building were solidly shut but the surrounding walls were decaying, resulting in many gaps. It only took a short search to find one big enough for everyone to get through with minimum discomfort that was away from prying eyes. Perwyn helped Catelyn through and she entered the huge room that once housed the dragons of House Targaryen. The walls and floor were black, forever scorched by its previous occupants, and the dome overhead was missing more panes of glass than it had remaining. Catelyn feared to tread, as the whole place looked like it could crumble at any moment, but she walked onwards with Brynden and the boys. They found that they were not the first to arrive. Mace Tyrell was already there, seated on a stool, surrounded by three men at arms and his son Garlan.

After much internal debate, Catelyn had decided to show Lady Olenna's letter to Robb and not to Tywin. Eventually she returned to the words of House Tully and put her family first. Robb was surprisingly calm when he read the confession, which detailed the full plot between Olenna and Cersei, and he simply suggested they needed to meet with the Tyrell's to discuss what had transpired. Catelyn had managed to get a copy of the letter to Mace's bedchamber in advance, resulting in him hastily accepting the need for a discrete meeting. Part of Catelyn hoped that Robb would agree to show the letter to Tywin but he did not want Tywin to know of this letter till he had spoken to the Tyrells first. She felt a slight twinge of guilt for keeping Tywin in the dark, as they had grown close in her time at Kings Landing, but she understood her son's decision and did not go against his wishes.

Mace stood up to greet them "Lady Stark, is your son not going to be in attendance?"

"I am here." The voice came from behind them and Robb walked in with Jory, Rodrik and Domeric. Everyone collectively removed their capes and cowls whilst Garlan kindly passed Catelyn a stool so she may sit down. All the men, bar Mace remained standing, creating an impromptu circle. Everyone seemed to warily assess each other, the nervousness and apprehension of this whole meeting spreading between those in attendance.

"Is Ser Loras not attending?" Perwyn asked.

"Yes he is," Mace replied, "but I suspect his movements through Flea Bottom will be much slower than any of ours. The smallfolk do love him so and he must be extra careful whilst traveling in disguise."

"We should start without him." Garlan added.

"Yes we should," Mace said, turning to face Robb, "and let me start by offering you the sincerest apologies from all of House Tyrell."

"Had we known what my Grandmother was planning, I hope you know we would have stopped her immediately." Garlan added.

"She was an elderly lady, her mind slowly eroding and confusing her. It caused her to act without thought or consideration on numerous occasions. The Queen Regent clearly took advantage of that and persuaded my Mother to provide her the poison." Mace continued. Catelyn did not quite believe this explanation from the head of House Tyrell, as did Ser Garlan who looked at his father with something close to disdain. She had seen the Queen of Thorns at court and in private and she never once seemed like she had taken leave of her senses. She was still as sharp, and clearly by her actions as dangerous, as the thorns she was queen of.

It was Brynden who responded though. "So what you are saying is that she was taken advantage of by the Queen Regent. Convenient as that leaves your House blameless."

"Might I remind you that I lost my daughter as a result of this folly!" Mace responded angrily, his loud voice echoing around the building.

Brynden did not flinch "Only because something in the plan went wrong. Had it gone perfectly then House Stark would have lost its lord and my niece would have lost her only son. I liked Lady Margaery and pity your loss but do not lay that burden here at our feet, her death had nothing at all to do with the North."

Torrhen was clearly full of fire as he pointed at Mace, adding "Your fucking old crone of a mother and that stuck up cunt Cersei tried to assassinate Robb! Don't fucking dare come here and expect the hand of friendship from us."

Before he could carry on his tirade, Domeric placed his hand on Torrhen's shoulder to calm him and said "Come now Torrhen, let us hear them out." Torrhen shrugged Domeric's hand away angrily but he did lower his finger. Catelyn noted that Ser Garlan's hand never left the hilt of his sword whilst Torrhen raged. From what she had heard Ser Garlan was a masterful swordman, regularly training against three people at once in order to hone his skills, so she hoped there would be no fighting as she was not sure that even Brynden could beat him, never mind Robb and the boys.

However Garlan was calm. Once Torrhen finished he spoke up "You are right to be angry. Regardless of her mental state, our grandmother's behaviour was inexcusable. We do not ask for your friendship, we ask for your forgiveness."

"We also ask for your support."

The voice came from behind Catelyn. Ser Loras Tyrell strode in, flanked by two Tyrell guards and Lord Renly Baratheon. The young stag clearly registered Catelyn's surprise at his presence and he winked at her like they were both at a dance. He joined Loras and stood beside the seated Mace. It was only then that Catelyn realised that none of the Tyrells were surprised by Renly's attendance, they all knew he was going to be here.

"What are you doing here Lord Renly?" Catelyn asked, trying to sound as polite as she could. She did not want to escalate this situation any more than necessary.

"I was invited. I cared very much for Lady Margaery and I want to see those responsible punished." he replied, trying to sound sincere Catelyn thought.

"And how do you propose we do that?" Torrhen asked in a venomous tone.

Renly cleared his throat and began to speak. It was obvious to Catelyn that he had rehearsed it. "It seems clear that there are two guilty parties in this plot - Lady Olenna and the Queen Regent Cersei Lannister. The true nature of Lady Olenna's death is only known to those present here, the rest of Kings Landing believes she died naturally in her sleep."

Catelyn shuddered as she remembered the Tyrell guards coming to move the body. Rigor mortis had set in and the smell was horrendous. She had kept the windows of her chambers open ever since.

Renly continued "Lady Catelyn can attest to the horrific pain and suffering Lady Olenna inflicted upon herself at her death. Whilst this does not excuse or balance her actions, it seems fair to say she was punished for her part before she died."

"Don't forget she was starting to lose her mind with age as I said earlier." Mace added.

Renly noted this with a slight nod to the Lord of Highgarden before continuing "That just leaves Cersei. I'm sure I don't need to tell you that bringing her to justice will not be simple. Lord Tywin is hardly likely to let his daughter get arrested, even if her guilt is beyond doubt."

Catelyn did not believe this. She knew Tywin was an honourable man and he could make the hard decisions if they were right. However Brynden raised the first objection "We only have the word of Lady Olenna confirming Cersei's involvement. Lord Mace has already told us how his mother was losing her mind in old age, maybe she is mistaken."

Loras turned and looked at Mace with concern. Renly however responded instantly "Unlikely given the content within Lady Olenna's confession. She mentions details that all but confirm the Queen Regents involvement, there is no other explanation. Plus we all know that Cersei Lannister is more than capable of such vindictiveness." Renly flashed his bright smile at that last remark. Catelyn knew then that Renly and the Tyrells had something planned already.

Loras spoke up "What we ask is the support of House Stark in arresting Cersei. With your force at the capital combined with ours, we have easily enough men to overwhelm the Lannister guards and the Kingsguard. Tywin will have no choice but to let us seize Cersei and her children."

"What of the Goldcloaks?" Perwyn asked

"They can be bought quite easily." Mace replied.

A sudden thought hit Catelyn. "Wait. Why are we going to seize King Joffrey and his younger brother and sister? They had no part in this."

Loras and Renly exchanged a look before Renly produced a parchment from his pocket. He held it up for all to see and said "I assume you have seen what my brother Stannis has discovered. Joffrey and his siblings are not Robert's heir's, therefore Joffrey should not be seated on the throne."

"Hold on one mom-"

Catelyn was interrupted by Mace. "If we take them all into custody in one fell swoop, there is more chance of a peaceful resolution rather than bloodshed. Cersei and her children can be exiled to Essos and live in comfort whilst we crown the rightful king."

"Stannis?" Catelyn asked.

"No, me." Renly said confidently.

"But Stannis is Robert's eldest brother and therefore the next in line to the throne." Catelyn stated factually.

Renly showed an exaggerated grimace then responded "Stannis as King?! Really?! Robert was a drunken whoremonger but he inspired loyalty. Stannis inspires nothing. He is colder than a wildling's toe. He would be a terrible king!"

"But he is the heir to the throne nevertheless." Catelyn stated forcefully.

Renly shrugged "Throughout history there are examples when the successor to the King was the best suited man and not the one considered rightful. Maegor the Cruel followed his half-brother Aenys on the throne before his son Jaenaerys. Aegon V was proclaimed king after the death of his father Maekar, even though he was the fourth son and there were others ahead of him in the line of succession. Besides Stannis does not have the support of the Stormlands and the Reach, I do." Loras put a solid hand on Renly's shoulder as if to back this up.

Brynden had clearly been considering all this and he spoke up "Firstly how do we know that Stannis is telling the truth? There is no evidence that King Joffrey and the little Prince and Princess are Jamie Lannister's bastards."

"Look at them Ser Brynden," Mace Tyrell implored, "They are Lannister through and through. Compare them to Robert's bastard by the Florent girl, Edric Storm his name is, and it is clear to see."

"Edric is my ward at Storms end." Renly added, " I can show him to all of Westeros if it is needed."

Loras spoke up "You will not need to Renly. Both the noble and common love you and will accept your word as the truth." Catelyn did acknowledge that Renly was popular and he shared the late King Robert's ability to win people over to his side.

Brynden seemed to accept this so next asked "So if it is the truth and they are all bastards, do you expect the Kingslayer to just sit back and do nothing whilst his sister and children are exiled? And what of Lord Tywin?"

Renly answered "Lord Tywin is an innocent party in all this. He would be free to return to Casterly Rock and continue his role as Warden of the West. I plan to make Lord Mace my Hand."

Catelyn's heart went out to Tywin at the thought of this. He would be losing his role at Kings Landing, his beloved twins and grandchildren and would only be left with Tyrion, whom it was clear he had little affection for. She did not feel that he deserved this and cursed Cersei for her reckless actions having yet another victim.

"As for the Kingslayer…..I'm thinking the Wall for his treasonous actions against my brother in repeatedly bedding his wife. If he will not accept this then I guess there will be bloodshed."

"Woe for the Kingslayer if he chooses to fight." Mace said, looking proudly at both his sons.

"So to be clear, what you want is Northern support in removing the King and replacing him with you." Torrhen spat out, still very riled. The whole thing left a sour taste in Catelyn's mouth as well.

"The rightful King, yes." Renly replied. "It is the right thing to do for the realm, for the late King Robert and for Lady Margaery."

"STOP!"

Robb made everyone jump. He had been so quiet that Catelyn had almost forgotten he was present. His voice boomed around the dragonpit, causing a nearby sparrow to fly away in haste.

Robb spoke through gritted teeth "I have heard enough of this to know that none of it is for Margaery. I should have expected it of you Lord Renly but the rest of you?! She was your sister and you are using her death as an excuse to grasp after more power. I came here to discuss how we could get justice for her, not how we could remove a King."

"But he is not born of King Robert!" Renly said, almost pleadingly.

"That does not concern me. I dislike the little prick but that doesn't mean I plan to dispose of him. He wasn't involved in Margaery's death so I don't care about him in this moment and neither should any of you."

Catelyn looked at the Tyrells. Both Loras and Mace looked shocked by Robb's reaction whilst Garlan only looked ashamed of himself for backing this plot. Renly however had composed himself and clearly thought he could still win Robb over "He may or may not have been involved, I agree Ser Robb, but do not forget that Cersei will be in his ear as Queen Regent, continuing to spread her poison. This is the same poison that led her to try have you killed. For everyone's sake we need to remove them all whilst we have the chance."

Catelyn could see that Robb was furious now and Renly's words had no affect "Do not think I'm naïve enough to think you are doing this for the good of the realm. You crave power just like the Lannisters. I want no part in any of this."

"Are you scared to fight? Are you craven?" sneered Loras.

Everyone erupted together on the Northern side and Catelyn was swiftly moved aside to safety by Rodrik whilst Torrhen squared up to Loras. "There are no cravens in the North. Just say the word fucker and I'll show you we don't fear any Roses. You bleed just the same as everyone else."

Brynden and Jory stepped in to move Torrhen away whilst Garlan dragged Loras away before anything got physical. Robb did not move and when everyone had quietened down again he spoke calmly "Baratheons, Lannisters, Tyrells – you are all the same. I loved Margaery, I truly did, and she loved me. We would have been happy together, away from all this…. Everyone, we leave for Winterfell before the day ends."

With that Robb turned and started to walk away. Catelyn and the rest soon followed on his heels.

"Ser Robb wait! You are right," Garlan shouted to them as they walked away, "we have forgotten what we are here for. Please don't leave yet."

Robb stopped in his tracks and turned to face the Tyrell party. "Too late for that now Ser Garlan. You all go play your game of thrones and try not to get any other innocents killed." With that Robb turned and continued to leave.

Catelyn could hear the Tyrell party speaking as they walked away.

"They are right, we have betrayed Margaerys memory here today."

"Oh quiet Garlan, they are nothing but cowards. We don't need them do we Father?"

"No Ser Loras, we have enough men to ensure Lord Tywin has to listen to us. The support of House Stark would have bolstered our cause but it is not required."

"I have already sent for men from Storms End but we may need to move against the Lannisters before they get here."

"We should continue with our plans Lord Renly."

Once they were out of earshot, Rodrik spoke "You did the right thing Ser Robb. They had no interest in justice for Lady Margaery, only for gaining control. There was no honour in their behaviour."

"Sometimes it seems like there is no honour below The Neck in Westeros. I shall be glad when we are back above there and far away from this vipers nest. I want everyone packed and ready to depart within two hours." Robb replied solemnly.

Catelyn found herself smiling. It was only the mention of Winterfell that reminded her how much she missed her home. With everything that had happened with Robb, Margaery and Tywin, she had forgotten how much she missed Benjen, Maester Luwin and everyone from her home. It seemed so long since they left there in order to come to Kings Landing, like it was a different time when everything was much simpler and less dangerous. She longed to return to Winterfell, hoping that some of that previous innocence would wash over them all and bring a sense of normality again.


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer – If your recognise it the it belongs to GRRM

Tyrion V

"Have we received any word from Pyke?"

Grand Maester Pycelle shuffled forward. "Yes Your Grace, a raven was received this morning. The castle has been taken and put to the sword. Unfortunately Lord Tarly reports that Balon Greyjoy would not yield and he was forced to slay him, rather than bring him in chains to Kings Landing as requested. He sends his humblest apologies for this but he is bringing Lord Balon's head so it can still be placed over the city walls as a warning to others who dare breech the King's peace."

Joffrey waved it away "There is nothing to forgive. Lord Tarly will be rewarded for his fine efforts in ending the Krakens once and for all."

Tyrion sighed. Since becoming Master of Coin he had spent most his time attempting to decipher the previous accounting done by Littlefinger and he had made very little progress. Littlefinger seemed to have a capacity to magic money out of thin air, something that Tyrion could not understand or repeat. All he was sure of was that the throne was low on money and heavily in debt. To compound this, King Joffrey appeared to have inherited King Robert's penchant for spending money that he did not have. Tyrion had lost count of the financial rewards he had been forced to find.

It was strange to actually see Joffrey sat on the Iron throne, attending a session of court. Tywin had insisted that he attend today in light of the claims from Stannis Baratheon that were currently spreading across Kings Landing and all the Seven Kingdoms. Tywin thought it was necessary that everyone see Joffrey ruling the realm from the Throne as it would help enforce that he was the King. Tywin had also brought Myrcella and Tommen to court today and they sat next to Cersei on the dais. Tyrion noted that they both wore black and gold clothing – the colours of House Baratheon.

Tyrion had previously suspected that Robert was not the true father of Cersei's children. He remembered reading an old tome of a book a few years ago that listed the heritage of all of the great houses. At the time he had noted that any children born of a Baratheon and Lannister were dark of hair, with not a single one blond. Combining that with the mutual hatred between Cersei and Robert and the almost unnatural closeness between his twin siblings, Tyrion had certainly considered the notion. Looking at Jamie now, stood with his fellow Kingsguard at the base of the throne, he looked more the father of the children than Robert ever did. Joffrey was practically the mirror of a younger Jamie in terms of appearance though unfortunately not in his personality. Sure Jamie was arrogant but Joffrey was plain vicious.

Joffrey carried on "The Royal fleet are to resupply at Kings Landing before immediately departing for Dragonstone. Lord Varys has brought us word of the latest actions of my traitorous uncle."

Varys stepped forward "Yes Your Grace. I have been informed that Lord Stannis has been attempting to persuade Houses from the Stormlands and beyond to his cause in order to raise a navy that could sail on Kings Landing. Fortunately the majority of Houses recognise Lord Stannis' claims as treasonous and have refused him so he does not have a major force. However he has started to recruit sellsails and soon enough he will have a fleet that could rival that of the throne."

Joffrey considered this and responded "I will ask my Master of Ships Lord Tyrell to again supplement the Royal fleet with that of his bannermen from House Redwyne. Where is Lord Tyrell today?"

"He sent his apologies for being unable to attend today, as did your Master of Laws Lord Renly, Your Grace." Pycelle answered.

"Not like Lord Mace to miss any occasion where he could remind everyone he was on the small council." Tyrion thought. "Maybe he is ensuring his odious mother is still dead." He remembers how is treated himself to a cartwheel when he heard that the Queen of Thorns had passed in her sleep.

"Well ensure he gets my order," Joffrey snapped at Pycelle, "I want that traitor Stannis' head decorating the walls of the Red Keep, alongside Balon Greyjoy's, as soon as possible. I want all of Westeros to see what I do to those who oppose me."

"As you command Your Grace." Pycelle muttered in reply.

"I tire talking of my father's traitor brother. Have the ravens brought any other news?" Joffrey asked the Grand Maester.

"We have received a raven from Lord Baelish at the Eyrie. He is happy to report that his wife Lady Baelish is with child. They believe it will be a brother for young Robert."

"That is good news." Joffrey replied sounding completely disinterested. All Tyrion could think was that the next raven from the Vale would be to "sadly" confirm the passing of young Robert. Or maybe Littlefinger will at least wait until the babe is born?

Varys spoke up "We should send a raven offering our congratulations."

As Joffrey consented to this with a nonchalant wave of the hand and Pycelle started droning on about the exact wording that should be used on the message, Tyrion realised that Varys had made the suggestion before his father had done so, unusual in that no-one normally thought as quick as Tywin.

Tyrion turned to look at his Lord father, stood beside the Iron Throne. Whilst his usual cold expression remained, he was clearly distracted. Tyrion guessed that the sudden departure of the Northern party yesterday played on his mind. Ser Robb and his host departed suddenly without a word of explanation why. All that remained was a brief note from Lady Catelyn in her chambers thanking Tywin for his hospitality in her time in the capital and informing him that they were returning to the North. Tyrion guessed that his father was as surprised and puzzled by their leaving as he was. He was sure that Ser Robb planned to linger until the poisoner of Lady Margaery was revealed so he may see justice for her demise. Tyrion knew for a fact that those enquiries were not yielding any results and he found it unlikely that Ser Robb would just suddenly change his mind and leave for Winterfell without discovering those responsible. Tyrion had a sense of unease about it all, though he had not ventured this thought to anyone.

Tyrion pondered if his father was just trying to understand their departure or if there was something more that occupied his thoughts. He knew that his father had dined with Lady Catelyn on a few occasions and he held her in high esteem but he was not sure whether there were any true feelings underneath it all or if it was just his own effort in swaying the North. He did not believe his father was capable of anything close to love but he sensed an aura of sadness surrounding him today which made Tyrion wonder if the cold ice of Tywin Lannister had finally melted when faced with the auburn beauty of Lady Catelyn.

The rest of the session continued with a variety of mundane announcements and requests of the throne. House Blackwood complained about the Bracken's hunting on their land, Jalabhar Xho made his annual plea for aid in retaking his seat in the Summer Islands, the marriage of Lord Beric Dondarrion and Lady Allyria Dayne was confirmed having taken place at Blackhaven, an envoy from Myr brought a painting of one of the Magister's daughters as a potential bride for Joffrey and there was a strange request from a sailor who claimed to have seen a black dragon flying across the Narrow Sea and asked for gold dragons in order to fund his hunt for the beast (he was swiftly dismissed with a severe warning from the King that should he ever show his face in the Red Keep again he would be executed for his lies).

Tyrion's legs were sore from standing so long by the time the final person had petitioned Joffrey. It had been a long afternoon and he wanted nothing more than a jug of wine and the comfort of his bed. He could see that Tommen was struggling to stay awake as well and even Lord Varys was yawning. It seemed like Joffrey was ready to dismiss everyone before the door to the throne room swung open and troops began to move into the room, through the crowd in attendance. Tyrion spotted they each wore armour emblazoned with the rose of Highgarden. Each member of the Kingsguard drew his sword despite being heavily outnumbered.

Tywin was no longer distracted and he barked "What is the meaning of this?"

Renly Baratheon strode into the throne room, flanked by Mace and Loras Tyrell, wearing elaborate armour that reminded Tyrion of that worn by his brother Robert when he took the field at the Trident. He addressed everyone clearly "We are here to arrest the Queen Regent for her role in the death of Margaery Tyrell." Renly then proceeded to read a signed confession from Lady Olenna that detailed the plot devised between Cersei and the Queen of Thorns to poison Ser Robb and how it led to her granddaughters death.

"Very convenient Lord Renly,"Tywin responded, "using the word of a dead woman to accuse the Queen Regent. There is no proof that is even the words of the late Lady Olenna."

Renly smiled an assured smile and threw the parchment to the feet of Ser Arys Oakheart. "Ser Arys will recognise the personal seal of Lady Olenna. Lord Mace informs me that his late mother regularly wrote to Lady Arwyn Oakheart of House Oakheart before her death. Her seal should be well known to your Kingsguard who used to read to his mother when he was a boy." Arys picked up the parchment and nodded reluctantly at Tywin once he had examined the seal.

"I have done nothing wrong, this is all lies!" implored Cersei.

"That is what will be determined Lady Cersei." Renly replied, "Lady Olenna confessed her guilt and remorse for her actions to Lady Catelyn Stark before she died. It is only right tha-"

Tyrion interrupted "So why are House Stark not stood with you now, supporting this action."

Renly shrugged "That is not for me to say. We are only here to take the Lady Cersei into custody. She will be questioned in order to determine her guilt in this torrid affair."

"My mother has nothing to answer for. I'll have all your heads you traitorous scum!" Joffrey shouted at them.

Renly completely ignored him and continued "Clearly King Joffrey will not be able to act impartially. Therefore as Master of Laws on the small council, I would be best placed to decide on the Queen Regent's innocence or guilt in this matter."

"KILL THEM, KILL THEM ALL" Joffrey screeched whilst Tommen began to cry.

"You don't have the authority to do this." Cersei added with fury.

Renly let out his arrogant satisfied laugh, the one that Tyrion found highly repulsive, and replied "Look around you. The steel of these men is my authority. You can come of your own accord or we can take you by force. I respect each member of the Kingsguard, you are all valiant warriors, but you are heavily outnumbered. I assure you the Queen Regent will not be tortured and will be judged fairly. This room has seen enough bloodshed through the years, let there be no more."

Tyrion could see all the white cloaks looked hesitant and ready to sheath their swords, with the exception of Jamie and the Hound who did not back up an inch.

"Mother….." Joffrey whimpered, seemingly stuck as what he could do. His initial rage had been cowed by what even he could see was a situation that he could not win. Tyrion turned to his father and could see that he looked like he could not see a way out of this. Cersei looked close to tears as she gripped tightly onto her stool.

Like the sun breaking through the horizon on a morning, the truth behind all of this suddenly emerged in Tyrion's mind. He was surprised that it took him this long to figure out what Renly was doing. This wasn't about Margaery Tyrell, this was a coop.

Tyrion spoke up "Lord Renly I assume the punishment, if my sister is found guilty, is death."

Cersei stared incredulously at Tyrion, like he was a co-conspirator, whilst Renly confirmed with a very solumn "Yes" though his face betrayed him and showed he was not sorry in the slightest.

Tyrion asked again "And let me guess, you would only likely spare her the blade of Ser Ilyn and reduce her punishment to joining the Silent Sisters or banishment to the Wall if she were to admit other crimes she had commited?"

Renly smiled back at Tyrion, aware that he was onto him, and replied "Yes, she would be given chance to confess all her crimes."

"And if she was to admit to the accusations laid against her by your brother Lord Stannis?"

"Then she would be shown mercy for the children's sake. I would not wish to leave them without a mother so she would be exiled to Essos along with her children to live the rest of their days…should she admit to those accusations." Renly replied.

Tyrion had heard enough "Then you will hand the throne over to your charming brother? I think not. Lord Renly, your motives are as apparent as Lord Mace's need to stop requesting additional cream cakes at night. You want the throne and don't pretend this is anything other than your own little usurping."

Before Renly could reply Jamie spoke loudly "My sister demands trial by combat."

"What?"

Jamie continued "You heard me Renly. My sister demands trial by combat as is within her rights by whatever Gods you want to pray to. I will fight as her champion."

Almost immediately Loras and Mace got in the ear of Renly to discuss this sudden turn of events. Tyrion turned to his father and could see that Tywin looked completely furious, though at whom it was not overtly clear.

After their discussion Renly turned to Jamie "For what crimes are you fighting as Lady Cersei's champion?"

"Whatever crimes you want to lay at her feet." Jamie replied assuredly.

"Ok then, for the crimes of conspiring to poison Ser Robb Stark, for actually poisoning Lady Margaery Tyrell and for commiting treason by forsaking her martial bed with the late King Robert Baratheon in order to father bastards with her brother Ser Jamie Lannister." Renly said, ending with a satisfied look across his face.

"I will champion Lord Renly." Ser Loras spoke, stepping forward to face the Kingslayer.

"No time like the present." Jamie said and he drew his sword. Loras followed suit and the crowd began to move backwards in order to make some space for the spectacle that was about to occur. Tommen looked completely terrified whilst Joffrey seemingly forgot his throne was at stake and looked excited by the upcoming fight.

Loras drew his sword and twirled it elaborately before pointing it directly at Jamie, who looked distinctly unimpressed. The crowd were deathly silent as the two knights faced each other.

"Any last words Kingslayer?" Loras asked.

"Could someone ask one of my squires to ready me a jug of wine. Killing gives me quite the thirst." Jamie replied calmly. Tyrion smiled at his brother's trademark confidence, it was something that they both shared.

Slowly the Knight of Flowers began to circle Jamie, who did not move aside from his eyes that followed his foe. Renly and Mace watched on, both looking a mixture of nervous and proud at their young rose. Tyrion admired the faith they had in Loras, after all they were essentially gambling their entire plans on his skill with a blade. He guessed that they had not expected this turn of events, though they should have known that Jamie would fight to the death rather than lose his beloved sister. Loras clearly did not mind and no doubt he wanted the glory and fame of being the man who killed the infamous Kingslayer in order to put Renly on the throne. Though Ser Loras was young he wa a decorated knight and his skill with a weapon was well known.

However Tyrion was not concerned. He would always back his brother in any form of combat and not just because he was family. Jamie was as revered with a blade as any living person in the known world, he seemed to come alive whenever he fought. Loras would take him lightly at his own peril.

The Knight of Flowers made the first move, lunging forward with a strike at Jamie's non-sword arm. It was easily repelled and Jamie replied with an arching slice of his own that just missed Ser Loras' shoulder.

Both men glared at each other before moving in unison to strike each other. The throne room suddenly sounded like a foundry as metal crashed against metal. They fought at ferocious pace, far too fast for Tyrion to see each man's attacks. The plain white cloak of the Kingsguard whirled and contrasted with the gleaming armour worn by Ser Loras. It was like a brutal dance with the clashing of steel as its music.

The dance only halted with a cry of agony. Tyrion could not tell who had released it. The movement had stopped and both men stood very close, each of their swords stuck into their opponent. They were practically face to face, staring hard into each other's eyes. They stood for what seemed to Tyrion like an eternity, locked in this morbid embrace, until Jamie lifted his left arm and let the sword of Loras Tyrell drop to the floor. The blade was clean, unlike his Tyrell armour which now had a river of red moving down the breastplate from the wound under his armpit where Jamie's sword had struck.

In a swift single movement Jamie pulled the sword from Loras' shoulder and placed it against his neck, just as he dropped to his knees. The Knight of Flowers looked completely stunned and only managed to turn his head in the direction of his father and Renly before it was cleanly removed by Jamie. The head flew to the feet of Ser Greenfield, spraying his white armour with a streak of red.

Jamie broke the stunned silence of everyone watching. "I'll have that wine now." He looked down at the headless body with a look of disappointment and turned to leave the hall.

Renly fell to his knees and cried out in pain, tears falling down his cheeks. Mace displayed the same look of stunned shock as his son did and forever would now.

"So the Gods have spoken. The Queen Regent is innocent of all charges laid against her." Tywin announced.

"If only you would have listened, you need not have lost another rose." Cersei added cruelly, just as two of the Tyrell men at arms moved to the headless body and dragged it away. Ser Greenfield kicked the severed head towards them, raising a small laugh from Ser Moore and a scowl from Ser Oakheart.

"Fuck you." Renly whimpered through his tears

Cersei smiled in response, a sinister smile "I will forgive your language this once Lord Renly, as I understand how the death of someone you were _so close _to can be very upsetting. But do watch your tongue in future. The Gods have spoken and confirmed that King Joffrey is of my late husband's seed and hence he is the rightful king. If you disagree Lord Renly then please speak, but be aware you will be committing treason."

Tyrion watched on as the goading clearly worked. Renly got to his feet, wiping away his tears and shouted "YOU are a WHORE and a BROTHERFUCKER! That abomination sat on the throne is not of the blood of the stag. We all know it! All the Seven Kingdoms know it!"

"Ser Moore, Ser Blount – please seize Lord Renly and take him to the Black Cells." Cersei said sweetly. Renly was powerless to resist as the Kingsguard grabbed him and dragged him out of the throne room, whilst he continued to scream insults till the noise faded away completely. The Tyrell men at arms moved to surround Mace Tyrell and escorted him out slowly and safely.

"I see Lord Mace has nothing more to add." Cersei quipped, causing some minor laughter. Tywin looked furious and stormed out without saying a word causing the laughter to stop instantly.

"Well that was quite eventful." Lord Varys whispered in Tyrion's ear. He just nodded back at the eunuch and couldn't wait to go join his brother with that jug of wine.


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer – if you recognise it then it belongs to GRRM

Jamie I

He took a long drink of the wine, an Arbor red if he was not mistaken, and sat back in his chair. He was alone in the White Sword Tower and drank in the silence. Jamie had planned to fully ascend the tower to his apartment on the top floor but the need for the wine meant he stopped on the first floor in the Round Room. He didn't even bother going to the undercroft to remove his armour or holster his sword, which current leaned against the wall still covered in Tyrell blood.

He had positioned his chair so it looked out the window overlooking the main courtyard of the Red Keep. Jamie could see the people leaving the throne room and crossing the yard so he guessed that the session of court had wrapped up fairly quickly after he had killed Ser Loras. Jamie could imagine them all talking about how the evil Kingslayer murdered the brave and valiant Knight of Flowers. It didn't matter that it was a fair fight and that Jamie did not even want to fight the young knight. Jamie felt no elation in what had happened. Ser Loras may have been brash and cocky but he was highly skilled and would have no doubt garnered much glory as a knight. But he was dead, just another victim of someone else's lust for power. Jamie had seen enough of the game of thrones to know that he wanted no part of it.

In truth the only thing Jamie wanted was Cersei. He had long since given up on becoming a knight as great as Ser Arthur Dayne – even if he killed every outlaw, defended every innocent and won every tourney in the known world, his reputation was forever to be tainted by the blood of Aerys in the eyes of his peers. He often wondered how Ser Arthur reacted when he heard the news that it was Jamie who killed the Mad King. Did he regret knighting Jamie that day in the Kingswood? Or did he understand that Jamie had to do it? Wherever Ser Arthur was now, be it alive or dead, he did hope that he believed that Jamie was right to break his Kingsguard vow that terrible day.

Regardless, nowadays all he wanted was Cersei. Since Robert's death he had found it much easier to spend his nights with her and he had taken full advantage of that. She had however forbid him from spilling his seed inside her as a newborn babe would be very difficult to explain. Not that he didn't still find his pleasure with her, she had other means of giving him satisfaction, but it somehow felt more dirty and less like lovemaking. He still returned whenever he could though, he never slept as well when his sweet sister wasn't by his side.

It scared Jamie how much he loved her. He would kill and destroy everything and everyone if it meant they could be together. She only had to ask.

His solitude was interrupted by Ser Greenfield, Ser Oakheart and Sandor Clegane. They all entered the Round Room and stared at Jamie, until Ser Oakheart asked "May we join you Lord Commander?" Jamie nodded in reply and each man took a seat.

As more wine arrived from a young squire Jamie asked the men "Where are the rest of the Whitecloaks?"

Ser Greenfield answered "Ser Trant guards the King and is to hunt with him today. Ser's Blount and Moore will be with us shortly, they just had to drop Lord Renly off in the dungeon. When you left he had a bit of a treasonous rant against the Queen Regent, he was very upset at the death of his….special friend?!"

"Show some respect for the dead Ser Greenfield. Ser Loras may have been young but he was a courageous knight." Ser Oakheart replied crossly.

"Look what that brought him," The Hound grunted, "nothing but an early grave, the stupid boy."

Ser Oakheart shook his head and stood up "What would you know of courage and honour Clegane, you are no knight."

"I know enough of knighthood to know courage and honour do not have a place within it." Sandor snarled in response.

Jamie did not want this to escalate any further so he banged his fist on the table and shouted "Enough!", causing Ser Oakheart to resume sitting and The Hound to storm out, taking a full jug of Arbor red with him. His heavy footsteps could be heard ascending the stairs, no doubt to spend the rest of the day in his room drinking and cursing the world. Perversely Jamie admired Sandor's refusal of a knighthood when he was raised to the Kingsguard. He shared his sentiments in the hypocrisy of it all, something Sandor knew only too well being the brother of Ser Gregor. Sandor's problem was that instead of embracing the falseness like Jamie did, he was bitter about it and turned to drink far too often to block it out. Not that Jamie would ever bring it up with The Hound – he was one of the few men Jamie was not certain he could best in combat.

Ser Oakheart waited until the footsteps had finished before he said "Were he not my Kingsguard brother, I would have taken his foul head." The raised eyebrows of Ser Greenfield told Jamie that Ser Oakheart was alone in this room in believing he was capable of that. Jamie had sparred with all the Kingsguard and Ser Oakheart was the weakest sword aside from Ser Blount. The Hound was by far the best, along with Jamie of course.

Whilst Ser Greenfield and Ser Oakheart started to talk to each other, Jamie found himself staring at his sword. It remained leaning against the wall and a small pool of dark blood had formed on the floor where the end was placed. Small red tears fell down the blade slowly to join the pool. It looked like the blade was cleansing itself, washing away its sins to become clean and pure again. Jamie envied the sword, if only it was that simple.

He was brought out of his thought by the door slamming open. Ser Blount and Ser Moore walked in laughing with each other.

"Did you hear him crying for the Knight of Flowers? Pathetic."

"If he misses his arse getting fucked then I'm sure some of his fellow prisoners would love to help him out!"

Both men chuckled as they sat down and helped themselves to the wine. Ser Oakheart looked at both men with angry eyes but said nothing.

"You fought well today Lord Commander." Ser Blount addressed Jamie.

"Thanks."

"Apart from staining my white cloak!" Ser Greenfield laughed.

You soil it often enough yourself , like every time you go visit that draper's wife, Jamie thought but he only said "My humblest apologies" in response.

Jamie had no desire to spend any time with these poor excuses of knights but he was forced to now he was Lord Commander. The Kingsguard was meant to be the greatest knights in the land. But the current bunch consisted of a glutton, a coward, a bully, an unskilled naïve boy, a sloth and a man who refused to even accept a knighthood, all led by a Kingslayer. Compared to the Kingsguard led by the White Bull it was embarrassing. He looked over to the White Book, lay on a side table with a lone quill stood upright accompanying it. In a hundred years when Joffrey's great great grandchild is sat on the throne and there is a Lord Commander looking through the annuls of the Kingsguard, will he consider this time to be lowest point in the Kingsguard history?

Jamie was glad when a young squire, Blount's he believed, brought him a message that he had been summoned to his Father's solar. He swiftly set off in that direction, leaving the Kingsguard to finish the wine. He picked up his sword on the way out and wiped the remnants of Ser Loras on Blount's discarded cloak. The fat fool did not even notice, too busy enquiring about the availability of any lemon cakes.

He walked swiftly out of the White Sword Tower and made his way across the courtyard. There was a light breeze that brushed his face as he walked. A few squires were practicing with their swords, no doubt re-enacting the duel between Jamie and the Knight of Flowers. They all stopped and stared briefly as he passed them, before they resumed fighting twice as hard in order to impress the Lord Commander. The knight in Jamie would have much preferred to stop and help teach the boys, show them some of the strikes and movements he learned from Lord Sumner Crakehall when he was a squire, but the Lannister in him had other duties that could not be avoided.

He walked quickly through the Red Keep and arrived at Hand's solar. He dismissed the guards on the door and entered to find himself in the middle of a war.

"Don't speak to me like one of your lack wit bannermen! I am the Queen Regent."

"If one of my bannermen acted as you do I would have removed his tongue long ago. Or maybe his head."

"Is that a threat?"

"No it is a fact. You must listen more carefully. In fact you should do more listening in general and far less plotting. Perhaps you will listen to your twin brother now."

Jamie stepped into the solar. Tywin was sat in his chair, face as cold as stone, whilst Cersei prowled the room furiously. Jamie lent against the wall and noticed Tyrion was also present, sat in the corner quietly hoarding a large goblet. He smiled at his younger brother and received a raise of the cup in response.

"I take it you are unhappy Father?!" Jamie asked.

Tywin gave Jamie a withering look and responded "Now is not the time for japes. As we speak Mace Tyrell is leaving Kings Landing and taking all his men with him."

"Good! We don't need them." Cersei butted in. She still looked beautiful even when full of rage. Jamie wished they were alone so he could hold her and kiss her to calm her wild temper.

"Are you an imbecile?" Tywin responded through gritted teeth, "We need his swords, we need his ships, we need his loyalty! Your foolish actions have already cost us The North and now they have cost us The Reach and the Stormlands."

"I heard about Renly."

"I had no choice, the things he said... had I not arrested him then it would have led to more questions."Cersei said.

"IT SHOULD NEVER HAVE COME TO THAT!" Tywin shouted, "Now you have driven them straight into Stannis' arms. Either that or they will join with the Tyrells. Either way we are weaker."

"What were you thinking Cersei? Poisoning the Wolf Knight?" Tyrion asked softly.

Cersei looked defiant "If you were real men you would have dealt with Ser Robb as soon as he disrespected your King and not left it to me."

Jamie ran his hand through his hair and sighed. He loved her dearly but she was as uncontrollable as wildfire when she felt slighted or saw an insult against her or her children, if it was real or imagined.

Tywin spoke up "I will NOT discuss this again. Robb Stark did nothing wrong, your actions were utterly stupid and ultimately without merit."

Jamie did not want to listen to this argument any longer. "Father, why do you need me here?"

"To make your sister see sense. There is a way to resolve this but Cersei must play her part."

"I will not be exiled!"

"What?" Jamie asked

"It is not exile," Tywin responded, "you will take a tour of the Free Cities, just like your uncles did, and see Essos in luxury. When the time is right you can return to Westeros, as the Lady of the Rock."

"But my children..."

"They will be cared for. They have their two uncles and me. I will assume the Regency and offer Lord Mace the Handship and his bannermen other positions on the Small Council. Hopefully that will appease the Tyrells and keep their loyalty."

"Lord Mace as Hand?" Jamie asked.

"It should appeal to his arrogance. However he'll have no real power whilst I am Regent."

The plan did make sense, Jamie acknowledged, but sending Cersei away...he could not deal with that. He had an idea. "I could accompany Cersei as she travels, keep her safe."

"Your place is here." Tywin quickly answered.

"Why the fuck would I want you there?" Cersei added, "You could never replace my children you fool."

"It is a good idea." Tyrion joined in unhelpfully.

"Fuck off Imp. I am not going anywhere, none of you can make me."

"Think of it as penance," Tyrion retorted, "Most people get the block for what you did."

"I am guilty of no crime. The Gods have judged that." No my blade judged that, Jamie thought to himself.

"It does not matter. The Tyrells will not co-operate with you here. You have to leave." Tywin stated

"NO!"

She turned to face Tywin. They both glared menacingly at each other, seemingly daring the other to break the eye contact. Cersei was the fierce lioness, Tywin the pride leader.

It was Cersei who spoke first "You can say whatever you want Father but I am going nowhere. If you have a problem with that then you can leave. You can go back to the Rock or fuck off to Winterfell and go join that Northern whore you dishonoured my Mother's memory with."

Jamie could see the rage boil over in his Father's eyes though his face only betrayed this with an ever so slight clenching of his jaw. For Tywin Lannister though, that was a clear sign that he was furious. Cersei seemed to see this as well but carried on regardless "You embarrassed us all Father, fawning after Lady Stark like a lusty sellsword."

Tywin gave her a look that dripped contempt and said "You are in need of a sharp lesson girl."

It was a simple sentence but it meant so much more. Jamie saw his brother wince at the words and the memory of Jamie's greatest shame came back to him. He sensed the danger "Stop now Cersei, you have said enough."

She carried on though "Oh dear, have I hit a sore place Father?"

"Carry on and I'll send you to Essos on a boat in only the clothes you wear now with no guards" Tywin answered.

"I grant you she was comely but she played you for a fool Father. She clicked her fingers and you ran to her."

Tywin ignored her and said "Maybe instead of Essos, I send you to Ser Gregor to be his new wife. He has lost two already, maybe you will be more fortunate."

Cersei still did not back down "You often told us how our Grandfather Tytos Lannister was a weak fool and how he brought shame and ridicule onto our house. Guess history has a way of repeating itself."

Quick as a flash Tywin had circled the table and hit Cersei with the back of his hand. She went down to the floor. Jamie was rooted to the spot, unable to move in his shock, as his father picked her up by her dress, ripping it at the shoulder, in order to deliver another strike. This one did not floor Cersei but he lip was bloodied and her cheek had already begun to swell. Tywin grabbed her hair and started to drag her across the room.

"You talk to me about SHAME! HOW DARE YOU! You have done nothing but disappoint me since your birth Cersei. You were not beautiful enough to interest Rhaegar and force Aery's hand all those years ago. You were too weak to guide Robert or aid our House whilst he sat on the throne. You produced that foul stupid abomination who currently sit on the throne…I have no further use for you."

"Father wait!" Cersei mumbled, blood dripping down her chin

Tywin did not stop "You say you will not leave Kings Landing. So be it, it will be your tomb."

Jamie then realised he was dragging her to the window. Tywin threw her at open space but he hit the ledge and fell to the floor. This did not stop Tywin who grabbed her roughly again and started to force her out of the window head first. She was pleading and crying but Tywin did not relent. Silently he kept aggressively pushing her and resisting her attempts to fight back. His rage gave him the strength of a much younger man and he was winning the battle with ease.

"Jamie, please I need you!" she screamed in fear.

What happened next was instinct. Before he could think about what he was doing, Jamie moved over to the window, the lead in his feet gone, drew his sword and thrust it through his father's back. He quickly pulled it out and watched as Tywin's body fell to the floor. He had pierced his father's heart, he died instantly. Cersei flung her arms around his neck and cried loudly.

"What have you done?" Tyrion asked completely stunned.

"He was going to kill me, he was going to kill me." Cersei repeated through her tears to no-one in particular.

"I….." Jamie couldn't find the words.

Tyrion approached them "You have doomed us all. It does not matter we are of his blood, we will all hang for this. Kevan and the bannermen will not allow this to go unpunished."

Jamie heard his brother's words but he could not find a response. All he kept thinking was the Kingslayer was now also a Kinslayer. Just more shit in the bucket. He wanted to hate Cersei for causing all this but he couldn't. It was just as much him for loving her so much that he would commit yet another grievous sin rather than be parted from her. He held her tightly and let her continue to cry in his arms. He wondered whether he should take his sister and jump with her out the window – they could be together forever then and leave all this horror behind them. It was starting to sound like a palatable option.

Tyrion pushed him hard in the arm to bring him back to the present "Listen to me both of you. Do exactly as I say and we can fix this, maybe. But we must act fast."


	25. Chapter 25

Disclaimer – if you recognise it then it belongs to GRRM

Daenerys II

Daenerys awoke when the light crept through her curtains and brushed across her eyes. She rose softly so not to wake Irri who remained curled up in a ball as the base of the bed. She smiled at her loyal handmaiden, who still refused to sleep anywhere other than Daenery's side. She even bunked with her aboard Balerion despite being terrified and very seasick. Daenerys vowed to find Irri a good husband when she claimed the throne, the girl truly deserved it.

Daenerys moved to the window and basked in the morning sunlight. It reminded her of those wonderful days riding across the Dothraki Sea at the head of her husband's mighty Khalasar. Every morning she would wake in the arms of Drogo and watch the sunrise whilst leaning against his muscled shoulder and stroking the long braid of hair that ran down his back. Most considered Khal Drogo a violent brutal man, and Viserys called him nothing but a savage whenever he was out of earshot, but Daenerys truly understood that he was a kind loving intelligent man, capable of greatness and sadly dead before he could achieve it. She would always miss him and still felt guilt over his death. The only good thing to come out of his death was her dragons, the only children she would ever have.

She watched the flowing waters of the Torentine River from her high vantage point. It moved slowly, creating a calm cascading noise that gently lulled Daenerys to sleep every night. If she stuck her head slightly out the window and looked left then she could see where the river joined the vastness of the Summer Sea. Again she could see no sight of any ships in the area. The whole scene was quiet and still, as if she was looking at a painting on a canvas.

Prince Doran had suggested that Starfall was the perfect place for them to remain in the shadows whilst Dorne silently armed and the dragons grew. The ancestral home of Ser Arthur sat isolated in the South West of Dorne, far away from any large population and close to no major shipping routes. The dragons were able to fly and hunt over the seas and sparse deserts whilst her Khalasar were just happy to be off the poison water after so long.

The castle was all but empty when they arrived. The current Lord of Starfall Edric Dayne was in the Stormlands squiring for his aunt Allyria Dayne's new husband Lord Dondarrion and was not due back for some time. Daenerys noticed that Ser Arthur registered some brief glimpses of sadness that he was not able to see his sister and finally meet his nephew though he did not voice as such. The elderly Maester had been left as castellian but he had died days before Daenerys had landed in Westeros and his replacement had not yet been requested from the Citadel, allowing Prince Doran to send Maester Myles, one of Sunspear's own Maesters, as his successor. The remaining staff and house guards were all aware of what was at stake. They had been rounded up and addressed by Obara Sand, one of Prince Oberyn Martell's infamous daughters, before Daenery's party arrived. Judging by how fearfully they tread around the castle, she guessed that Obara had told them in no uncertain terms the penalty if any word left Starfall of its new occupants.

The time that they had been here had been great. For the first time since Drogo's death Daenerys felt safe. She believed that all her Khalasar felt the same. With food and water no longer in short supply the men and women could finally eat and drink their fill and rebuild the strength that had been lost whilst they wandered through Essos and across the seas. Indeed Daenerys could see that Irri was starting to look more like the comely curvy girl she was gifted all those moons ago in Pentos.

Daenerys silently robed herself in a light silk gown, one of the many gifted to her by Prince Doran, and crept out of her chambers. She smiled at the guards on her door, both dark skinned sandy Dornishmen who did not flinch, and made her way down the corridor. The cold of the stone floor against her bare feet made her increase the pace as she made her way towards Jon's chambers.

She made the same journey every morning. It started as a suggestion by Ser Arthur. He mentioned to her that her nephew shared her trait of rising early and it might be nice for her to use the time to spend time with Jon. The knight had noted she still remained cautious around Jon and he had wanted to end that. She had gone that first morning and spent the time with him with all the same enthusiasm she showed towards her numbers lessons as a girl in Braavos. Jon had sensed her hesitance and that had clearly made him uneasy as well. The time passed slowly. This pattern repeated itself day after day after day to the point where Daenerys was debating whether it was worth continuing as their relationship seemed to be deteriorating rather than improving. Until Jon answered the question she hadn't yet realised needed to be asked.

"I can talk to him."

"What do you mean Jon?"

"Rhaegal. I can talk to him. Without saying the words out loud."

"What?!"

"It's why he is less wild than Drogon."

Daenerys did acknowledge that Drogon was becoming uncontrollable and Viserion was going the same way. It was only Rhaegal that seemed to follow any form of instruction and primarily if that instruction came from Jon. He would respond to Daenerys but it seemed much more forced and it would take multiple commands as opposed to the single one required by Jon.

"How do you do it?" She asked Jon.

He then told her about how it started with his dreams. He dreamt himself as Rhaegal, seeing the world through his eyes as he flew through the skies and hunted. He didn't understand it at first, passing it off as vivid dreams, until he realised he could control Rhaegal's actions. He even managed to bring the dragon to his chambers and he watched himself sleep through Rhaegal's eyes. After this he found that Rhaegal was far more obedient and would follow Jon's commands, sometimes without the needs for spoken words. "It is as if Rhaegal is inside me like when I have been inside him" He speculated.

The whole notion seemed crazy and with these words coming from someone who shares the same blood as her, the same blood tainted by centuries of incest and madness, it gave her cause for concern. But Jon was adamant that this was real and he had another thought. "Also Aunt Dany, I think you will be able to control Drogon in the same way. I think I can show you."

Every morning after that Daenerys had gone to him and he had tried to show her how she could connect in this way with Drogon. It mainly involved them both sitting by Jon's window, eyes closed, imagining themselves as their respective dragons. Jon called it "making a connection of the soul", Daenerys thought it was futile at best, a ridiculous waste of time at worst.

But she persevered, returning every morning to sit with Jon who remained confident that it would work as "it was in her blood, the same blood as me." Again she was close to ending her visits until something happened. As she sat there, eyes closed supposedly focusing on her thoughts of Drogon as instructed by Jon but in actuality slowly drifting back asleep, she suddenly saw through Drogon's eyes. He was flying across the sea, stalking a small bird. He kept his distance from his prey but mirrored its movements. Daenerys had never felt so alive and so much like a true dragon. She could feel the wind brushing across green scales, the hot fire building in her throat and the desire for the kill rampaging through her blood. She never took her focus off the bird and crept closer and closer to the prey.

She snapped out of it as suddenly as she had entered it. Jon was as delighted as Daenerys that she had managed to do this and she had returned to his chamber every morning in order to continue to learn and practice this unusual connection. She was now able to enter Drogon everyday but she still could not seem to control him like Jon could control Rhaegal. She could do it sporadically but she was unable to hold control for a prolonged period of time. However Drogon had become far tamer, just as Jon predicted, and now he would respond to Daenerys commands in the same way Rhaegal did with Jon. The Dothraki often looked amazed that the same wild black dragon, that many of them would not approach through fear, would now follow her instructions like a dog without Daenerys using a whip or any weapon.

Daenerys and Jon had also grown closer with her regular visits. They shared this bond now and she felt more at ease with her nephew, less concerned about betrayal. He now felt like family, not just in heritage. Although it was certainly not what he had in mind when he suggested it, Ser Arthur's plan to bring them closer together had worked.

She arrived at Jon's chambers, knocked and entered. He was already awake and dressed.

"Good morning Aunt Dany, I hope you slept well."

"I did thanks Jon. I did not dream as Drogon though."

He smiled "I am sure you will in time. Whatever "this" is, I am certain we will both be able to do exactly the same eventually."

They sat by the window in their usual places facing each other and closed their eyes. It did not take Daenerys long to slip into Drogon and she spent an hour flying around the towers of Starfall and the deserts surrounding. She attempted a few times to control the dragon but was unsuccessful. She left Drogon as he sat beside a small brook lapping at the water and returned to her own body. The experience was not particularly tiring but both her and Jon found it made them hungry so they made their way down towards the main hall. The servants were used to their early appetites so would no doubt have some food prepared ready for their arrival.

They walked arm in arm down the stone halls of Starfall. As Jon talked about Rhaegal with obvious fondness, Daenerys stared at her nephew. He did not look like an heir to the throne. His hair was a mess of dark curls and was in need of a cut. He was growing whiskers around his upper lip and chin, as black as the hair atop his head. She smiled to herself. "He has not really changed from that boy growing up in Qarth" she thought to herself. It only made her grasp his arm tighter.

She did not want him to change. He was straightforward, honest and compassionate, not just to her but to everyone he encountered. It was very hard not to like him. The only thing she wished to change was his continued coldness towards Ser Arthur. Jon still did his very best to avoid the man he once knew as his father and he would not discuss or consider changing his position. Daenerys heard that Arthur and Jon used to practice swords every single day but she had never seen them do this together for as long as they had been in her company.

Daenerys caught sight of something out the corner of her eye as they walked. She stopped Jon and pulled him back to the open doorway they had just passed. They both peered in silently and could see a white knight stood at the far end of the room. The large white greatsword Dawn could be seen slung across the back of the figure, meaning it was clearly Ser Arthur. He was stood within the room, at the furthest end away from Daenerys, facing a large open window that appeared to lead to a small balcony. Daenerys looked to Jon, who shrugged and gestured that they should leave him, but chose to ignore him and entered the room softly.

"Ser Arthur, does something trouble you?"

The knight clearly did not hear her enter as he jumped slightly in surprise at her voice. He did not turn to face her but answered "Apologies Your Grace, I did not hear you enter. There is nothing wrong at all. Please continue onwards to the Great Hall to break your fast, I will follow you shortly."

Again Jon made to leave but Daenerys released her grip on her nephew and continued onwards into the room. She made her way to Ser Arthur and found tears slowly falling down his cheeks.

"Ser Arthur, you are crying. Whatever is the matter?" She asked, placing a hand on his arm.

"Your Grace...it is nothing. Please do not trouble yourself."

"Ser Arthur. I command you my knight, tell me what has brought you this sadness."

He sighed and eventually replied "This room was Ashara's, my sister. Out there was where she jumped to her death."

Daenerys had never heard any such tale "Ser Arthur...I am so sorry."

The tears flowed more freely now "I wasn't here for her when she needed me the most. My own sister."

"What happened?" She asked softly.

Ser Arthur wiped his eyes with his hand then spoke "My sister was beautiful and wilful, a dangerous mixture. She fell with child. The father...was not interested and betrothed to another. His ambivalence did upset my sister but the thought of a child, her very own to love, filled her heart with enough love to mean it did not matter."

"Who was the father?" Daenerys asked.

"It does not matter now," Ser Arthur answered, "he is long dead, another victim of the Usurper's Rebellion. The child was stillborn and this destroyed Ashara. Heartbroken and alone, she walked out of this window and from this balcony she jumped to her death. If only I was here with her, she never would have jumped."

Daenerys tried to sooth the knight. "You don't know that Ser Arthur. The loss of a child is a terrible thing for any woman to bear."

It did not work. "I know I could have Your Grace. I could have held her in my arms, like I did when we were children growing up. I used to protect her from everything when she was scared and upset. When the Others visited her in nightmares, when she was being bullied by other children, whenever she needed me. Except the one time she truly did."

"Where were you?" Jon asked from behind them. Daenerys had forgotten Jon was still here.

Arthur did not turn to face Jon but he answered him. "I was with you. I had promised your mother I would protect you and keep you safe. I knew I could not return to Starfall with you, it was the first place they would look for me. As it happens it was, but all they found was her body. I heard the tale from an oarsman as I crossed the Narrow Sea as Lothar Morning with his bastard son. Thank the Seven for the wild sea that night, the oarsman mistook my tears for sea spray splashing my face."

Jon walked slowly into the room and moved to face Ser Arthur. The knight raised his head to meet Jon's eyeline. Jon smiled softly and simply said "Thank you."

The next morning Daenerys was awoken by the sound of steel clashing and Ser Arthur giving instruction. She smiled and went back to sleep. Learning to bond with the dragons could wait.


	26. Chapter 26

Disclaimer – if you recognise it then it belongs to GRRM

Catelyn VIII

Winter is coming

The words of her adopted House never felt truer as Catelyn stood atop the walls of Winterfell. She held the thick furs tightly around her body as the cold winds battered at them, attempting to get beneath towards her skin. It bit and scratched at her face, making her lips sore and tender. It screamed and howled around the battlements like an ominous warning of the pain and hardship to follow. It cried like it was mourning the end of summer.

But Catelyn remained unmoved. It would take more than wind and cold to make her retreat to the relative warmth of indoors. She had told Maester Luwin as much when he came to her and asked that she come inside. No, she held her position by Hunter's Gate and watched as Robb came back to her.

He had been missing for eight days. A note was found in his chambers one morning simply stating that he was going riding alone. By nightfall he had not returned and Catelyn feared that he had been captured by bandits or wildlings south of The Wall. It was only when Brynden pointed out that Robb had taken his camping equipment and far more provisions than was necessary for a single day that they all realised that he intended to remain alone for far longer than a solitary day. Brynden had argued that Robb needed some time alone to get himself together but Catelyn and Benjen had insisted that he was to be brought home. Eventually Catelyn had begged her uncle and he relented, leading the search for Robb. Eventually word got back to Winterfell that he had been found in the Wolfswood, camping by a small stream deep within the trees.

Catelyn watched as the small party of riders got closer and closer till they were upon Winterfell. She swiftly moved from the battlements and made her way down to the courtyard in order to greet them. She walked determinedly, a mixture of relief and anger flowing through her body as the worry that had racked her the past few days started to dissipate.

She knew that Robb had been struggling with what happened to Margaery and all the unsavoury events at Kings Landing. He had been quiet and downcast for the entire month that they journeyed back to Winterfell. Domeric, Torrhen and virtually everyone in their party had tried to raise his spirits during the long ride to no success. There was no change to his sadness once they reached Winterfell. His spirits had been clearly lifted by seeing Benjen and Jasper again after so long but that was only a brief happiness before a return to his gloom.

The departure of Domeric and Torrhen did not help either, though both were due to return within the next few months. Domeric had returned to the Dreadfort to see his father and show him their house's new Valerian steel sword whilst Torrhen had gone to finally see his sister at Karhold as she grieved Daryn, her former betrothed. Catelyn understood why they had to go but she was counting down the days till their return in the hope that it may help lift Robb out of his depression.

Catelyn reached the courtyard just as Brynden led the party in. Her eyes immediately searched for Robb and she eventually found him. He looked more like a captured wildling than the Lord of Winterfell. His hair was an auburn mess and it was clear he had not bathed properly since he left the castle. He was showing an unruly wirey beard that was in desperate need of a blade. His clothing just looked fit for burning.

She walked forward and caught his eye. "Robb."

He smiled tiredly at her and simply replied "Mother." It was clear to Catelyn right then that he was still in pain and whatever he had hoped to achieve by camping in the Wolfswood all alone had not been found. She had planned to chastise him for acting so recklessly but, seeing him like this, she could bring herself to do it. Instead she stood back and watched as her led his horse to the stables, looking like a broken man.

She left him alone for a day before going to his chambers. She found him sat at his desk writing.

"What are you writing?" she asked.

"I am replying to Lord Manderly. He wrote to offer his sincerest condolences regarding Lady Margaery and I am thanking him for his kind words."

"I'm sure Maester Luwin would be happy to do that for you son."

Robb shook his head "Lord Manderly is a loyal bannerman to our House, it is only right that he receives a reply from his Liege Lord directly. Besides he is one of the few that has not offered me a daughter or granddaughter as a replacement. Honestly some of them aren't even subtle about it."

Catelyn could well imagine, she remembered the letters she received after the death of Eddard. Some even arrived before Eddard's bones. She did not want to linger on it though. "I'm sure they mean well Robb."

"We both know that they don't," he interrupted, "they see an opportunity that they never thought they would get again and they are trying to take full advantage. I mean Lord Karstark even offer Alys hand, even though she was to marry Daryn… even in the North it seems the lust for power knows no bounds."

Catelyn could not disagree. There was a brief silence before Robb spoke. "I'm sorry for causing you distress the past week Mother. I just wanted to be alone."

She did not want to lecture him so she replied calmly "I was worried about you Robb. It is dangerous out there."

"I'm not a child."

Now Catelyn spoke angrily "No, you are The Lord of Winterfell and someone very valuable to any outlaws who want a ransom. You did not consider me, Ben, Brynden or anyone when you ran off."

Robb looked thoroughly shamed but he said nothing. Though it pained her to do so, she carried on. He needed to hear this. " I know you are hurting but you have responsibilities and people who depend on you. I am not going to tell you to forget her or find another wife but you cannot carry on like this."

Robb scowled "I will never find another wife." He spat out bitterly.

Catelyn ignored him and carried on "You have to find a way to be the Lord of Winterfell your people need despite your grief. And you will feel love again my Son. I know it does not seem likely now but in time your heart will mend."

She placed a hand on his shoulder "Lady Margaery will always have a place in your heart Robb, but in time there will be room for another."

Robb did not meet her eye. Instead he gazed towards the hearth that warmed his room and said "When the sun has set, no candle can replace it."

Catelyn pulled his face gently till their eyes met. In the sadness his eyes seemed less blue. "You will heal, just give it time."

"I'm not sure it will Mother." He replied sadly.

Again Catelyn decided to be honest with him. "Regardless you will marry one day. As Lord of Winterfell you will need an heir. I hope you can marry for love but if not you will for duty."

Robb seemed to take this in. He held eye contract with Catelyn before giving her a small smile which she returned.

"I know you are right Mother. I do appreciate your honesty." He smiled a little more. "Uncle Benjen was honest too. He threatened to punch me, knight or not, if I acted like that again."

Catelyn had overheard Benjen shouting at Robb in the Bell Tower. His search party had been the last to return to Winterfell. Immediately he had found Robb and rebuked him furiously. "I heard Robb. He was as worried as anyone when you left. Don't think I'll stop him punching you either!"

Robb let out a small chuckle, the first Catelyn had heard from her son in some time, and returned to his letters. Catelyn sat next to him and watched as he made his way through the many ravens piled on his desk during his absence. The majority were condolences from various Houses across Westeros but a particular one grabbed his attention. He peered at it with what looked like a mixture of confusion and disgust.

"What is it Robb?" she asked.

Robb spoke "A raven from Kings Landing. Apparently Queen Cersei is innocent of any part in Margaery's death. There was a trial by combat which proved her innocence and left the Knight of Flowers without his life. Slain by the Kingslayer... will nobody be punished for her murder?"

Catelyn was glad they left Kings Landing when they did or it could have been Robb dead by the hands of Jamie Lannister.

Robb carried on "There's more. Apparently Renly Baratheon is a traitor and currently occupies a cell in the dungeons."

Catelyn could not even begin to speculate how these events came about. "Who sent you the raven? Was it Lord Tywin?"

"No. It came from...the Hand of the King Mace Tyrell?"


	27. Chapter 27

Disclaimer – If you recognise it then it belongs to GRRM

Tyrion VI

"And that was the last you saw of your Father?"

"Yes nuncle," Tyrion replied calmly, "he gave me my orders and left for the Rock. No farewell kiss sadly."

Kevan walked slowly and circled the table, making his fourth lap since he entered Tyrion's chambers. He was clearly concerned and could sense something was not right. Tyrion had guessed that Tywin's brother and closest confident would be the hardest to convince and this prediction was proving to be entirely correct. Though he long lived in the shadow of Tywin, Kevan was an astute and intelligent man, not someone to be underestimated.

Kevan spoke as he paced "That was one week ago and he has not been seen since. He would have reached the Westerlands by now and more than likely at least spent one night with one of his bannermen. I have had men searching and there has been no sight of him at any inn or townhouse anywhere. Something must have happened to him en route."

Tyrion played along "I assumed he would take some Lannister guards with him but I cannot find a single man missing. Why would he ride for Casterly Rock alone? Maybe that wasn't his real destination."

"He is known to all in Westeros. Surely we would have received some form of ransom demand by now if he had been captured?"

"Some outlaws don't tend to capture people, only rob and kill them no matter who they are. Outlaws do tend to be the stupid sort."

Kevan scowled back at him "This is no laughing matter Tyrion. I do not want to entertain the thought that he…..is no longer with us. It does not bear thinking about. We need to know where he is."

Tyrion knew where to find his father. All Kevan would have to do is visit Flea Bottom and buy a bowl of brown. He did not want to dwell on that whole debacle though – everything from his father's death to the ordeal of moving the body out of the Red Keep undetected was a bad memory he would rather forget. He did not love the man but he deserved a better end than what he got. "I only joke nuncle because I am certain he will emerge eventually. My father is far too cunning to get killed by outlaws. There will be an explanation behind his absence and we just have to wait for his return to hear it. We will both laugh about this in years to come."

The lie came easily but they did not placate Kevan. "Something is amiss, none of this feels right. I hope that you are indeed right nephew but I will not rest until he is found. My men will continue to search the Crownlands, Riverlands and Westerlands."

A huge waste of time but again Tyrion could not tell Kevan that. "I agree Ser, maintain the search."

Kevan finally sat down opposite Tyrion and poured a goblet of water for himself. He sipped at it whilst he lent back in his chair.

"The changes you announced at court...Were they Tywin's idea?" Kevan eventually asked.

"All my father's plan, he was very clear in his instructions and I followed them exactly." Tyrion answered. Out of all the lies he had told to Kevan this was the only one that left a sour taste in his mouth. It was Tyrion's plan and it had worked in repairing much of the damage caused by Cersei.

Tyrion acknowledged that the plan had started as his fathers but he had added to it and made it his own. He had offered Mace Tyrell the Hand as Tywin was planning to do. He had also given his bannermen Randall Tarly and Paxter Redwyne positions on the small council as Master of Laws and Master of Ships respectively. It did give the Tyrells much more power but Tyrion placed himself as Regent to ensure that ultimately the rule remained with him. Of course the wider world had been informed that Tywin was the Regent and Tyrion was only acting Regent in his father's absence, only Tyrion, Cersei and Jamie knew the truth.

Cersei had been reluctant to give up the Regency but Tyrion had insisted that it was only temporary until the relationship with the Tyrells was fully secure, something that could not be achieved if they had to work closely with Cersei. Of course Tyrion had no plans to ever let his sister have the Regency, or any position of power, again but she did not need to know that. Joffrey had also been unhappy with Tyrion's appointment but he was able to be placated by the thought it was only temporary and Tywin was to return soon to assume the role. Tyrion knew that controlling Joffrey would be his most difficult task as Regent, especially when it would become clear that his position was lasting.

Tyrion had anticipated that persuading Mace Tyrell to become the Hand and maintain the Lannister-Tyrell alliance after the death of Ser Loras would be difficult to say the least. The Lord of Highgarden lusted for power but his sorrow after the death of his beloved son might even overrule that. Tyrion wished that the throne did not need the Tyrells but without their army and navy they would be extremely vulnerable.

That's where Storms End came in. Tyrion offered the castle and Lordship over the Stormlands to Mace Tyrell as recompense for all that has transpired. It was the cherry on the cake that finally persuaded Mace to maintain the alliance and agree to become Hand. Giving Storms End, and ultimately Lordship over the Stormlands, to House Tyrell did make them undoubtedly the most wealthy House in Westeros but it was a necessary sacrifice. Mace had almost immediately sent Ser Garlan to claim the castle, which as the second son would be his own, before Tyrion could change his mind.

Since then Lord Mace had been far more receptive towards Tyrion's continued insistence that Cersei was not involved in the plot to poison Margaery and that the Queen of Thorns had been confused due to her age when she accused her. He had also bought into Tyrion's accusation that Renly knew of Cersei's innocence but was trying to take advantage of the Tyrell's grief over Margaery to use their men in order to claim the throne for himself unjustly. Of course the fact that the Tyrells had been given Renly's seat played a huge part in Lord Mace joining in condemning him as a traitor and pushing for his execution – should Renly be found innocent then they would lose the Stormlands instantly.

As if he was reading his mind, Kevan spoke up "They have been successful in bringing the Tyrell's back in supporting King Joffrey. Indeed if you speak to Lord Mace now you would think he never once believed that Cersei was involved in the plot to kill Robb Stark."

Tyrion raised an eyebrow at his uncle "And about time too! Surely everyone who knows my sweet sister would never believe that a gentle soul like her would be involved in something so evil?" The look returned by Kevan suggested he knew the truth.

Servants soon arrived with a dinner of duck and sweet potatoes for the two men. Kevan ate in silence, clearly still concerned with the whereabouts of his elder brother. Tyrion did not like the thought of his uncle, who had always treated him with respect and kindness, being awash with worry when in reality there was nothing he could do now but it was unavoidable.

In the silence Tyrion found himself thinking of his brother. Though Jamie did not regret his decision to cut down his father and save his beloved sister, he still found the burden heavy to carry. Though he showed nothing on the outside, Tyrion knew that inside he was suffering. Jamie was so used to carrying his pain and guilt inside that he just piled this new batch on top of the Aerys and Cersei stuff already there. Tyrion loved his brother but did not know how to help him.

Kevan brought him out of his thoughts "What about Dragonstone?"

"Lord Stannis currently resides there, plotting with this mysterious red priestess and surrounded by his navy and sellsails. Unless you have heard any different."

Kevan gave him a look. "I meant when the island is taken. Who will rule there once Lord Stannis has been crushed?"

Tyrion had already thought on this. "As the heir apparent I intend to send Tommen. Myrcella too."

"With Lady Cersei to rule there until he comes of age?" Kevan asked.

"After the great job she has done with Joffrey? Absolutely not." Tyrion answered. He had decided to separate Tommen and Myrcella from their mother and their cruel brother as quickly as possible before either of them are corrupted beyond repair. He knew Cersei would object furiously but he could deal with that.

"So who would be their guardian if not their mother?" Kevan asked.

"I was hoping that you uncle would consent to go there as their guardian. You could take your twin boys, Willem and Martyn, as companions to Tommen and maybe Joy, Gerion's daughter, to play with Myrcella. I believe you are more than capable of guiding and helping Tommen become a strong and noble Lord. I would also send Ser Arys Oakheart to teach the boys arms and a septa for the girls."

Kevan weighed this up "I will think on it Tyrion. But firstly I must find your father."

Kevan left soon after. Tyrion spent the rest of the day alone answering and writing ravens. His solitude was interrupted at nightfall when Cersei came crashing through his door.

"Sweet sister, always a pleasure to be in your company." He said with a broad smile.

She looked furious. "Not now Imp. I have not the patience for your barbed remarks."

"You wound me sister. Now please tell, what brings you to my chambers in such a foul mood?"

Cersei's eyes searched the room, for wine presumably, but Tyrion had finished the last flagon over an hour ago. "The Tyrells. All they do is take, take, take."

"Yet more requests from our gracious Lord Hand I presume?"

"Not just him but those other Tyrell lickspittles you appointed to the Small Council." Cersei spat out.

Tyrion had expected as much but it was a necessary problem they would have to accept, all due to Cersei. "You sound surprised. Tyrells have always been greedy for land and gold. It should be no surprise their bannermen are the same."

"Did you have to give them so much?" She asked Tyrion in a very accusatory tone.

"Quite simply, yes I did. Getting annoyed by the Tyrells is far more preferable to being beheaded. You should remember that more often considering all this is a result of your...questionable choices."

Tyrion did not attempt to veil the criticism and Cersei responded with the expected fury. "I only acted how all of you should have when the King, your own nephew, was so publicly insulted by that Northern son of a whore."

Even now she could not accept that what she did was foolish and, quite simply, the wrong thing. "Why is it that even if everyone in Westeros names a drink water you will still persist in calling it wine? Your insistence on continuing to justify your actions as righteous is disturbing. Your actions have led us to this point, hence it is down to you that we rely so heavily on the Reach."

Cersei remained firm. "Why do we lions need to rely on the roses so much though? There must be others."

"Who?! Please tell me and I will send a raven straight away?! Our only other allies are the Vale and they do not have sufficient forces as it is. The Stormlords side with Stannis or Mace, Dorne will forever hate us, the Ironmen are extinct and you lost us any loyalty from the Riverlands and the North. Unless you have links with the wildlings beyond the Wall, that is it. We only have the Tyrells!" Tyrion answered exasperated.

Cersei quickly responded "I still do not see th-"

Tyrion quickly interrupted "If the Wolf Knight raised his banners along with House Tully then they would have a formidable army of size and strength. It is only if we combine the Tyrell forces with that of our own that we can match their numbers. May The Seven help us if Dorne got involved as well."

Cersei actually thought on this before eventually saying "Yes they are loyal to Robb Stark. But where is it written that House Stark should be the great house of the North? There are other houses, noble houses, that I'm sure would be more loyal to their King if given the opportunity."

Tyrion did not like the way this was going. "Do not act in haste sister. I am thinking of ways to bring House Stark back into the fold."

"All you do is think."

"That is to make up for your lack of it. I order you Cersei, do nothing on this problem without my prior agreement."

She scowled back at him and responded angrily "Do not ever presume to give me an order Imp." before storming out of his chambers. Tyrion wanted to chase after her to continue this but there were too many eyes and ears within the Red Keep that he did not trust. Instead he remained there, alone with his thoughts, and hoped she would not carry on her trend of acting foolish when it comes to the North.


	28. Chapter 28

Disclaimer – If you recognise it then it belongs to GRRM

Jon VII

They received three visitors at Starfall.

The first to come was by far the most beautiful and she was there to see Jon.

Arianne Martell arrived on horseback, having ridden alone across the desert, coming straight from Hellholt. From what little Jon knew of Dorne, he immediately admired her spirit for braving such a harsh journey. He also never felt so intimidated by a woman.

They took a walk together alongside the shallows of the Torentine. They were left alone, aside from Rhaegal who flew overhead like a winged chaperone. Jon wore his smartest robes, a deep red colour with yellow slashes of fabric across the arms and chest and his riding boots. Arianne dressed only in a light silk dress that clung to her body in all the right places, and walked barefoot. She looked like she had just left her bed and part of Jon wanted nothing more than to take her back to his without delay.

As they walked she asked Jon about growing up in Qarth, the dragons and his impressions of Dorne so far. "It is very hot, if it were not for the breeze I think I would find it unmanageable." He had answered to the last question.

"The Young Dragon wrote that he found the sun of Dorne to be his most deadly adversary during his conquest." She stated in response.

Jon remembered his lessons "You mean Daeron the first, the eighth king to sit on the Iron Throne."

Arianne smiled "An intelligent boy. Good."

"Thanks?!" Jon replied, a heavy mix of confusion thrown in.

Her eyes seemed to be enticing Jon, as if she was undressing him in her mind and inviting him to do the same. He could feel his manhood arousing just looking at her. She spoke softly and seductively "Tell me Jon, how many women have you taken to bed?"

The confusion turned to astonishment "What?!"

"How many woman have you fucked Jon?" She asked the question easily, as if she was asking what he ate for dinner last night.

"You do not need fear my faithfulness," Jon spluttered out, "When we are wed I would take no other woman to my bed."

"A faithful and loyal boy, also good. But that is not what I asked Jon. How many?" She purred in response.

He debated lying to her but in the end spoke the truth. "None."

She laughed in a way that Jon could not tell whether he was being mocked or seduced. "An innocent boy, I will have some fun corrupting you in our bedchambers."

"You are no maid?" As soon as Jon said it he regretted it. Arianne threw back her head and released a vivacious laugh. He could feel his cheeks redden in embarrassment.

"Oh Jon, I lost my virtue to the Bastard of Godsgrace when I was five and ten. There have been others in the eight years since. You are not going to be marrying The Maiden but a proud Dornish woman. Such an innocent boy!"

Jon had heard enough of that word. He quickly grabbed her hand, firmly but taking care not to crush it, and turned her to face him. He looked deep into her eyes as he spoke. "I am no boy Princess Arianne. Make no mistake I can fight as well as any man and whether you are my first of my five hundredth lover, I will make sure that you will forget any others by the time we are done. And I'll give you plenty of strong sons and beautiful daughters. I may be young but I am a man."

She looked surprised as she held his gaze before her lips created a smile. "I underestimated you Jon. You have fire in your blood and I like it. You asked my father if I would consent to marry you and I do."

Jon let go of her hand. "You didn't really have a choice though Princess. Your father would have made you even if you could not stand the very sight of me."

"That's what he would have you think." She responded confidently as she walked away, heading back to the castle.

Jon stood there, seemingly transfixed by her as she walked away. "Where are you going Princess?"

She carried on walking. "There is much to be done to prepare Dorne for war and I have my part to play. I was interested to meet you and now I have."

"When will I see you again?" he shouted after her.

"Hopefully when Daenerys sits on the Iron Throne and we can get married as quickly as possible. If it is before then I might not be able to control myself."

Jon just stood there, speechless.

* * *

The second visitor was Rhaegar Targaryen.

He sat on a mighty black horse outside the castle gates. His armour glimmered in the sunlight, matched by his long silver hair. No-one could look directly at him for too long, he shone far too brightly. He looked unworldly, like something beautiful given back to the living by the Gods.

Jon, Daenerys, Aggo, Ser Barristan and Ser Arthur rode out to meet him. As they got closer Jon could see that it wasn't his father returned. He had seen drawings of his father's image and the man shared a very close resemblance but it was not him.

"It is Ser Gerold Dayne, more commonly known as Darkstar." Ser Barristan said to the group as they approached his position. Judging by Ser Arthur's expression, Jon could see that he was not familiar with this other Dayne.

As they approached the knight called Darkstar dismounted from his horse and took a knee. He addressed Daenerys as they stopped in front of him. "Your Grace, it is an honour to finally see you in the flesh."

"How do you know of my presence here Ser?" She asked as she dismounted from her white steed. Jon and the others followed suit. Aggo immediately moved to his Khaleesi's side, his hand ready on his arakh. Ser Barristan also looked ready to draw steel at a moment's notice.

He remained knelt, his eyes studying Daenerys. "Prince Oberyn and his Sand Snakes have been slithering around Dorne, silently spreading word of your presence and readying all the Houses and their men. I was a guest of Lady Allyrion at Godsgrace when Tyene Sand arrived to inform all of your arrival. I set off for Starfall the next morning."

"Why are you here then Ser?" Daenerys questioned the knight.

"To pledge myself to you as the Sword of the Morning Your Grace."

Daenerys motioned to Ser Arthur. "I already have the Sword of the Morning in my Queensguard."

Darkstar shook his head slowly as he rose to his feet. He turned to face Ser Arthur. "You were the Sword of the Morning. Now you are an old man, a husk of the knight you were. I am the true Sword of the Morning."

Ser Arthur smiled wryly. "If you were a true Dayne, you would know that the title remains with its holder till death. As you can see I still breathe."

Jon had heard enough and added "And who decided you were worthy enough?"

Ser Gerold paid Jon's words as much attention as the sand beetle that scurried past his foot. His purple eyes did not leave Ser Arthur. "Whilst you were babysitting in Essos and growing old Ser Arthur, I was coming into my prime. There is no better sword in the whole of Westeros and it is about time I claimed what is rightfully mine."

Ser Barristan spoke up "A very bold claim Ser. I do not recall you entering the lists or winning any melee's with which you could justify such a claim."

Darkstar laughed coldly "Lists? Melee's? I do not play at war Ser Barristan. When I strike a man, it is to kill him. I will show everyone I am the most deadly man in all the known world by killing the Kingslayer, the Mountain and every single knight who stands in the way of the rightful Queen and her throne. To do that I'm going to need my sword."

Daenerys tried to prevent the tension from turning to violence. "I will gladly take you into my service Ser. But I already have a Sword of the Morning and he is more than worthy of his title."

It did not work however. Darkstar's eyes narrowed. "You honour me Your Grace. But I'm going to have to insist that you reconsider who is your Sword of the Morning."

Daenerys made to respond but Ser Arthur interjected "If you want to be the Sword of the Morning Ser, then you will have to wait until I die."

"Why wait?" Darkstar quickly replied.

Ser Barristan and Aggo both moved Daenerys and Jon backwards, leaving Ser Arthur stood alone with Ser Gerold. Both men looked at each other before in a whirl of silver both their swords were drawn and they attacked each other.

They fought at a furious pace. Neither man spoke, the only noise was the sound of steel meeting itself. Jon had never seen Ser Arthur fight in a real fight before. He remembered hearing tales in Qarth of the man then known as Lothar Morning slaying ten pirates singlehandedly who attempted to steal a merchant ship from the docks but this was the first time Jon had ever seen the man fighting to the death. Now watching Ser Arthur wielding Dawn, Jon could see just how good he was. He was keeping up with the younger man, who himself fought with much skill and aggression, and displayed with the same grace and finesse as when he trained Jon. Looking at Aggo, it appeared that even he was impressed by the abilities of the two men, even though he would see them as cowardly for wearing armour as they fought.

After a long protracted flurry, both men separated. Ser Arthur remained still, Dawn raised and his eyes alert, whilst the Darkstar began to circle him like a predator.

"House Dayne has a long history of prodigious knights yet all I have ever heard since I was a boy is how great you are." Darkstar said bitterly as he moved.

"When I was a boy every tale and story was of Ser Ulrick Dayne." Ser Arthur replied casually, "Instead of moaning about it, I used his example as inspiration and ensured that my actions would live up to his memory. Soon enough people didn't talk about Ser Ulrick anymore."

This only seemed to infuriate Darkstar. "With Dawn in my hands, I could have surpassed you easily!"

"That is where you misunderstand Ser. Wielding the sword does not make a man the Sword of the Morning. It is his deeds and the respect he earns from doing them that makes a man worthy of the title." Ser Arthur replied back to him.

Darkstar snarled and lunged at Ser Arthur. Jon watched as Dawn deflected the wild blow and a swift follow up before Ser Arthur thrust the greatsword straight at his opponent's chest plate. The blow was savage but highly controlled and the blade cut through the armour like a warm knife through butter. Jon could see from its position that Ser Arthur had aimed for, and succeeded in hitting, the heart of Darkstar.

Ser Arthur held the thrust for a few seconds before removing the sword from the pretender in a swift motion. Darkstar remained on his feet though blood began to dribble out of his mouth. He glared hatefully at Ser Arthur and made to say something but instead dropped face first to the floor. Blood began to pour out through the gaps in his armour and pool on the hot sand.

Ser Arthur continued to stare at the corpse before turning to Daenerys and saying "Your Grace, could I ask the servants to collect the body and inter it in the tombs below Starfall?"

Daenerys gave a nod, though clearly confused, so Ser Arthur elaborated "He may have been an arrogant and entitled fool but he was a Dayne and deserves to be lay to rest with the other knights from our house's history."

"Would he have afforded you the same courtesy?" Jon asked

Ser Arthur shrugged and said "It does not matter. As I said to him, I am the Sword of the Morning and I will never smear that honour by acting in a way that is not befitting of it."

* * *

The third visitor was the Spider.

He was sat in the Great Hall one evening when they all arrived for their evening dinner. No-one appeared to be quite sure how or when he got to Starfall. A place at the high table was hastily assembled and the Master of Whispers joined them for a meal of fish in orange sauce with a variety of Dornish fruits and vegetables. As usual there was an abundance of Dornish wines to wash down the fine food, though Varys stuck to water.

Once all had eaten, Daenerys dismissed everyone, aside from Jon, Ser Arthur and Ser Barristan, in order to listen to what their guest had to say.

However before the eunuch or anyone had chance to speak, Ser Barristan quickly drew his sword and moved towards Varys.

"Tell me Lord Varys, why do you come here as a friend when you spied and even sent assassins after Queen Daenerys for the Usurper?"

The eunuch giggled like a handmaiden. "Oh Ser, I wondered why your eyes never left me whilst we ate. I thought you just admired my robes!"

Jon hadn't noticed the behaviour of the elderly knight. Ser Barristan moved his blade closer to the neck of Varys. "You did not answer my question Spider."

Varys cleared his throat nervously then replied "Might I point out that you too served the Usurper Ser Barristan, defending his life every single day. We both did shameful things to preserve our lives under the reign of King Robert that now we aim to rectify by ensuring the rightful Queen sits on the throne."

Varys turned to Daenerys. "In my defence Your Grace I only provided select information to the Usurper and I ensured that no real threats were ever sent your way when he ordered your death. That being said I am mortified that I served that man for so long and I am here to atone for that. The news I bring now is the start of that."

Daenerys thought briefly before she motioned to Ser Barristan. He reluctantly sheathed his sword. Varys flattened the front of his robes and smiled at Jon before he spoke "Only two months ago the Hand of the King Tywin Lannister had done magnificently in binding the Tyrells, the Stormlords, the Vale, the Riverlands and the North to the throne."

"Tywin Lannister is a monster who ordered the murder of my brother's children and his wife." Daenerys spat. Jon had heard the story and nodded in agreement.

"Indeed he is Your Grace," replied Varys, "but he is a very intelligent and shrewd monster, with ice and steel running through his blood. He had united most of Westeros behind the King, his grandson, which is an achievement by anyone's standard. There was a point when I thought the alliances behind the throne were so strong that I would be unable to act. Thank the Gods for the Queen Regent!"

The eunuch performed a little skip. "Queen Cersei Lannister….she believes herself to be her father reborn in a woman's body but she is nothing like him. She has none of his guile but all of his ruthlessness. She is a vain impetuous woman who believes she is a player in the game when she is nothing but a pawn."

"She was the Usurper's wife?" Jon asked

"Yes she was," Varys replied, "and the years she spent in a loveless marriage to a man who never ever stopped loving another only added bitterness to her many flaws."

Jon thought he knew who this other woman was but he did not want to ask at this moment. The way that Varys met Jon's eye suggested that he knew that Jon knew as well.

Varys carried on "The young Lord of Winterfell fell in love with the Rose of Highgarden and she publically chose him over the King. This enraged the Queen Regent and soon enough my little birds came to me with information that she was arranging for the Young Lord to be poisoned at his farewell feast at Kings Landing before he was to return to the North to marry his Rose. I knew this was the opening I needed and when the feast was done it was the Rose who drank the poison and died."

Ser Barristan looked disgusted by this and Daenerys asked "Why did anyone have to die? Could you not just stop the poisoner?"

"That was the noble action." Ser Barristan added.

Varys answered in a light tone, as if he was explaining numbers to a child. "That would have been the noble course yes, but it would not have aided Your Grace. The death of Lady Margaery was…..unfortunate but it had to happen in order to crack the solid bonds Tywin Lannister had forged with the other great Houses. I was planning to expose the guilty to the Wolf Knight, as the Young Lord is also known, but one of the Queen Regent's co-conspirators could not take the guilt and did it for me. After that I just let those involved act to their true nature – the North and Riverlands left in disgust and broke ties, the Roses and Stags used the whole affair as an excuse to claim power. In one fell swoop, all of Tywin's work was destroyed and the Lions were alone, save for the meagre support of the Vale who themselves have been silently taken over by a man who does not act for anyone other than himself."

"So the Lions now stand alone?" Daenerys asked.

Varys shook his head "Remarkably no. Tywin has managed to use the Roses lust for power to bring them back into the fold. Indeed Lord Tyrell seemingly forgotten all about the death of his only daughter and all it cost the Lannister's was the Handship, some seats on the Small Council and the Lordship of the Stormlands. Cersei has been removed as Regent and replaced by Tywin so he still holds power."

"Incredible." Ser Barristan said, with a face that looked disgusted at the events he was hearing.

"The Reach has always consisted of ambitious Houses." Ser Arthur stated with a face of knowing sadness. Jon guessed that the pair of knights were slowly coming to realise that they were now in the minority of those who value honour and family above power and wealth.

Varys did not show any such surprise or sadness. It was apparent that honour did not concern the Spider. "Interestingly Lord Tywin has not been seen in the capital for at least a fortnight and his whereabouts are unknown, even to me and my little birds. There is genuine concern that he is dead, however unlikely that sounds. In his place his youngest son the dwarf Tyrion acts as Regent."

"Let us hope he is dead." Daenerys said sternly.

"Of course Your Grace. But make no mistake, unlike Cersei, Tyrion Lannister truly is his father's son. He is not to be underestimated and he will no doubt be partly responsible for all of the recent Lannister successes, not that his father would ever acknowledge that."

"You have told us much Lord Varys. But what advantage can we gain from all you have said?" Daenerys impatience was beginning to show. Jon placed his hand on her arm to try tempering her, though her violet eyes did not show any calmness.

"I have reason to believe that even now there are plots against the Wolf Knight, no doubt led by Cersei Lannister. The time is right now to reveal yourselves to the North and bring them, and consequently the Riverlands, to your side. I believe they will support your claim and their support brings a large army."

"So you think we should all head for the North?" Daenerys asked, with hesitation in her voice.

Varys tittered and then replied "No Your Grace. I think it best that only Jon and a small escort make that journey. You are best remaining here in Dorne where you will be safe and read to meet other allies soon."

Jon guessed his face displayed surprise and shock because Varys immediately saw fit to explain his reasoning. Either that or he just wanted to avoid what he meant be other allies. "You may be a dragon Jon Sand, but you are also part wolf. Not just in appearance but in your blood. Go to the Wolf Knight, who is your cousin, and warn him to remain guarded against any threats from the throne. Then bring him over to our side."

Though he felt nervous, curiosity and desire to better know his mother stirred within him. "Yes I will go."

"And I will accompany him, with the consent of Your Grace."

Ser Arthur's sudden pledge even surprised the Spider who gasped dramatically. "Is that a wise course of action Ser? You are responsible for the death of Eddard Stark, the Wolf Knight's father."

Ser Arthur's face betrayed nothing. "I am aware of that Lord Varys and will gladly explain myself should the question be raised. Besides I can confirm that Jon is indeed the son of Lyanna Stark as I am the only living witness."

"I want my nephew protected so Ser Arthur will be his guard." Daenerys added.

Varys smiled sweetly, a very false smile Jon noted. "As you wish Your Grace. I have a ship waiting and I suggest it has set sail before the sun has crossed the horizon."


	29. Chapter 29

Disclaimer – if you recognise it then it belong to GRRM

Daenerys III

The day was slowly drawing to an end and, from her seat within her chambers, Daenerys could relax and bask in the final light of the day. She stared out over the seas, sending good will in her thoughts to Jon who was somewhere on them. Drogon was curled round her feet protectively, always keeping an eye on his two brothers who sat close by. Rhaegal was clearly fast asleep, his green chest rising and falling in relaxed rhythm, but Viserion returned his brothers gaze, almost challengingly but with no real desire for a fight. Viserion remained the only of her children to be unresponsive to human commands and, were it not for Drogon and Rhaegal often cowing their smaller brother into submission, she suspected he would have caused injury or worse to one of her people by now.

She gave Viserion a smile, admiring the lightness of his wings and the golden horns that adorned his head. He returned with a somewhat intrigued look but did not move and remained sat next to his sleeping brother. The irony was not lost on Daenerys that the only dragon that remained out of control was the one named after her brother Viserys, who himself was beyond her control or reason whilst he lived. It was his impetuous and sheer arrogance that cost him his life in what seemed a lifetime ago. She found herself wondering if he would be proud of her finally setting foot on Westeros, readying to retake the Iron Throne and restore House Targaryen to its rightful glory. She doubted it – his fierce pride would not have allowed it. She also wondered how he would have reacted to them finding Jon, though that answer was more obvious.

She had wondered what could be done with Viserion. Both Daenerys and Jon did not know if either of them would be able to bond with another dragon like they each had with Drogon and Rhaegal respectively and neither had any idea of how to test this. She had worried that Viserion would always be her unruly dragon and she would be reliant on her other dragons to control him forever until Lord Varys told her…..

"The dragon has three heads."

She suddenly remembered the words spoken by her eldest brother in her vision in the House of the Undying. Perhaps he knew something all those years ago. Perhaps it was just coincidence. Perhaps it was just a trick of the warlocks.

Lord Varys had lingered when Jon and Ser Arthur left for the North. He requested an audience alone with Daenerys, though Ser Barristan had refused and would not even consider the idea. He was so adamant that even Daenerys did not object for fear of angering her elderly protector. So they both sat and listened whilst the Spider told them of an ally from Essos, an ally who was currently en route to Westeros to join her at the head of the Golden Company no less.

"Who is this ally?" Daenerys had asked, excited at the prospect of further support to her claim.

"Your brother Rhaegar's trueborn son, your nephew Aegon Targaryen, the sixth of his name." Varys announced.

"That's impossible," Daenerys had answered, "he died with his mother at Kings Landing."

Varys had then gone on to explain how he replaced the babe at Princess Elia's behest, once word came through of Rhaegar's death on the Ruby Ford, with that of a common born child. It was that infant that was killed by the Lannister's whilst Aegon was spirited away to Essos, safe in the protection of Jon Connington, whose death was also falsely reported across the Seven Kingdoms.

Varys had clearly been keeping a firm eye on this lost scion of House Targaryen. "The boy is truly remarkable. He can read, write, use numbers and speak several tongues. The boy has been trained in arms, the use of medicine and how to hunt for food. He is a born ruler."

Strangely the first question Daenerys had was not about Aegon. "Tell me Lord Varys, why was he the only child spared? Why was his sister Rhaenys also not replaced?"

Varys sighed sadly "Rhaenys was a girl of four, well known throughout the Seven Kingdoms for her beautiful dark hair and her cute smile. Replacing her would have been impossible without raising too many questions. Princess Elia begged me to, literally, but alas I was unable to find a suitable replacement. Fortunately for Aegon all babes look the same."

"My nephew's claim is better than mine," Daenerys stated, "does he want the throne for himself?"

The eunuch had laughed softly and shook his head. "No Your Grace. He wishes to share it with you as your husband."

She had dismissed Varys and Ser Barristan after hearing this, wanting to think on all this alone. Since then she had not left her chambers, taking her meals alone in there and refusing any company with the exception of the dragons who entered and left through the window of their own accord.

However now she finally wanted to talk to someone. "Ser Barristan." She shouted, certain that he would be on guard outside her door. He duly entered.

"Your Grace." He bowed before meeting her eyes with his kind blue ones.

"I would ask your honest opinion Ser. Is this Aegon real?"

He cleared his throat "Truthfully I cannot answer that. The news of his survival was as much a surprise to me as it was to Your Grace I assure you."

"Did you see the bodies after the Sack of Kings Landing?" She asked.

"No Your Grace. I was badly wounded fighting alongside your brother on the Trident and only returned to the capital a month later when I had fully healed. From what I heard though, the babe had been….he was beyond recognition Your Grace." His eyes looked close to tears so Daenerys did not press for more details.

"So he could really be my nephew?" She queried the knight.

He nodded "It is not impossible. Lord Varys has a large network that spreads across all the known world."

"But you do not trust him Ser?"

"I never have or will Your Grace. The man is morally corrupt and his true allegiance is never clear. It is also worth knowing that the Golden Company have historically supported Blackfyre rebels. This boy may be a descendent of one of the great bastards of King Aegon IV, the Unworthy."

Daenerys had not thought of this though it was a plausible argument. "What of this Jon Connington?"

Ser Barristan's face softened at the mention of this man. "He was a good man and a loyal knight to House Targaryen. He was always close to Prince Rhaegar, one of the few men that truly knew your brother. His support of the boy does add credibility to his legitimacy as I doubt he would ever betray Rhaegar, even after his death." He conceded.

In truth Daenerys knew she would have to face this Aegon eventually and she just prayed that she felt a connection with him as she did when she met Jon. Though she was wary at the time, it was their innate connection that convinced her of the truth of his blood and allowed her to accept him as family eventually.

She looked over at Viserion. "If he is truly my nephew then he will be the one to bond with Viserion. The dragon has three heads."

"Just as your sigil shows." The knight answered.

Drogon stood up briskly and stretched his long frame out, similar to a common house cat would after a nap. His dark red eyes smouldered and observed the knight. He was about the size of a small horse now and Daenerys wondered if she would be able to mount him soon. She was aware however that he would still continue to grow and he would likely reach the same size as Balerion the Black Dread once did in the days of the Conqueror. Drogon seemed satisfied that Ser Barristan was no threat and swiftly trotted over to the window and jumped out. He soon soared past, his black wings blocking the remaining sunlight for a brief moment before he moved away from Starfall. Viserion and Rhaegal soon followed, clearly both eager to hunt with their brother.

Daenerys walked to the window and smiled as she watched her children fly. They would be the only children she would ever have now, the maegi had told her that.

She felt Ser Barristan moving closer till he was stood next to her at the window. They both stood still for a time, silently watching as the sun continued its voyage to the horizon. It did not feel an uncomfortable silence, rather it was relaxing and reminded her of the days she would overlook the sea with Ser Willem Darry as a child.

Eventually she spoke. "This Aegon wishes to marry me."

"House Targaryen has practised the Valyrian practice of incestuous marriage throughout the ages Your Grace, indeed your father and mother were brother and sister." Ser Barristan replied as a statement rather than an opinion.

"What is your view on this Ser?" she asked in genuine interest.

Ser Barristan pondered before saying "Your grandfather Jaehaerys once told me that the practice has led to both greatness and madness. He told me that they were two sides of the same coin and whenever a new Targaryen was born, the Gods would toss the coin and the world would hold its breath to see how it would land."

"What do you mean Ser?" She enquired.

The knight continued "There have been examples of both in your House's history. Greatness was seen in Aegon the Conqueror, Aemon the Dragonknight, Daeron the Young Dragon and of course Rhaegar. Conversely Aegon the Unworthy, Aerion Brightflame and your father all descended into a madness that ended up consuming them, as did your brother Viserys from what you have told me of him."

Daenerys now understood what Ser Barristan was saying though she knew that it would not matter in her case. "I will never bear a child Ser, not until the sun rises in the west and sets in the east. The Gods will never need to toss the coin."

The knight put his mailed hand gently on her exposed shoulder. She immediately thought of Ser Jorah aboard the Balerion when he kissed her. But her Queensguard only looked at her with fatherly warmth. "It pains me every time you say this Your Grace. I pray to the Gods that the words of the maegi were false and one day you will birth a child."

Daenerys shared that prayer too. She smiled at her knight. "I thank you for your kindness Ser. I too hope the witch's words are proven wrong."

"I believe they will be Your Grace," Ser Barristan stated confidently, "which is why you must consider the possibility of a marriage to your nephew Aegon resulting in children of the same blood."

"Do I take this opportunity to end the practice once and for all?" She asked aloud.

"That is for you to determine Your Grace."

Daenerys wished Jon was still here as she would have very much liked to have discussed it with him. The thought of Jon made her suddenly realise something else.

"If I refuse to take Aegon as my betrothed then he would likely want to be my heir. But I have already promised this to Jon... What can I do Ser?"

The knight answered simply "Again that is for you to determine Your Grace."

She leant into her companion and rested against his shoulder. The cool metal of his pauldron felt nice against her head and she held onto his strong arm. She closed her eyes and imagined herself back in Braavos, a young girl carefree and full of childlike innocence. That girl used to run across grass, jump into ponds and laugh lots. At this moment she envied that girl - no responsibilities or people depending on her.

But that girl was long gone and now in her place was a Queen, a Khaleesi, a mother of dragons and an aunt of one, if not two, of her eldest brother's children. She knew then she would face this Aegon and determine whether he was a dragon or not. She still did not know what to do about the rest.

"I thank you for your company Ser but I am beginning to tire now." She said softly.

Immediately the knight bowed silently and made for the door.

"Ser." Daenerys called him as he reached the door.

"Yes Your Grace."

"When I was born, which side did the coin land?"

He answered instantly "Greatness, I know this for certain."


	30. Chapter 30

Disclaimer – If you recognise it then it belongs to GRRM

Catelyn IX

Whenever she found herself in the saddle she thought of Brandon. He never looked more alive than when he was riding. He always rode with such reckless abandon, looking likely to fall from his mount at any moment, yet he always never did, maintaining a masterful control of the horse. "I wonder if his lovemaking will be a wild and fast as his riding at your bedding?" Lysa had giggled in her ear when they were girls at Riverrun watching him. She never found out, thanks to the Mad King.

The thought of her sister brought with it some sadness. Over the years Catelyn had spoken with Lysa less and less. She was not exactly sure of the reason why as there had been no disagreement or argument between them to cause a split. Maybe it was just the distance with Catelyn in the North and Lysa in Kings Landing until her husband's death. After that she returned to the Eyrie but still had not sent Catelyn any word.

Since their party crossed the White Knife, the faint outlines of the mountains of the Vale could be seen in the distance to Catelyn's right, like grey wisps of air. She imagined that at the top of one of them was the Eyrie, where her sister was currently situated with her new husband Petr and their unborn child. She had sent a raven when she heard the news, offering her congratulations, but it was Petr who replied. He invited both her and Robb to visit the Vale, something Catelyn planned to suggest to Robb when the time was right. She wanted to see Lysa again and thought it right that Robb got to know his cousin Robert who would one day rule the Vale.

However the Vale was not the destination of this current party, just under thirty strong, being led by Robb.

Catelyn pulled the parchment out of her pocket and unfolded it. She scanned over the words again.

_Robb, I hope this raven finds you well. My father and I received an unexpected guest yesterday - none other than Lord Tywin Lannister. He arrived at the dead of night with only a small number of guards. He told us the truth behind the recent events at Kings Landing, including the death of your beloved Lady Margaery Tyrell. I dare not write these truths in my letter to you in case of interception, but instead I ask that you and Lady Catelyn come to the Dreadfort so Lord Tywin can tell you in person. Please travel light with a small party - tell no-one of the true purpose of your visit as it could lead to trouble for us all if Lord Tywin's presence here became known. Your friend, Domeric._

Robb had naturally brought this to Catelyn, Benjen and Brynden straight away. Though his great uncle urged caution, Robb was insistent that they ride to the seat of House Bolton to listen to Lord Tywin. The promise of the truth behind who was responsible for his betrothed death was too strong an urge and they had followed Domeric's instructions, bringing only a small number of Winterfell guards. Brynden, Perwyn and Jory Cassel also planned to accompany the group, though Brynden ended up remaining at Winterfell at the request of Robb when a dispute between Houses Cerwyn and Dustin erupted on the day of their departure that required attention.

In truth the journey had been quite pleasant. Both Catelyn and Robb had never visited the Dreadfort so the road they were taking showed them sights they had never seen. She did feel some slight shame that she had not made this journey with her son before, especially as he is Liege Lord of all the North and she should have encouraged him to know all his Kingdom. The trip also gave Robb the opportunity to meet some of his minor bannermen. The previous night was spent at the humble keep of House Condon who were delighted at the presence of their young Lord and held a feast in his honour. They had even vacated their chambers and insisted that Robb took them for the night, despite her son's best attempts at refusing their kind gesture. Robb's spirits seemed to lift visibly throughout the evening, she believed that the humility and kindness of House Condon afforded him provided a clear reminder that not all Houses let ambition come ahead of honour and courtesy.

As she watched Robb riding alongside Perwyn deep in conversation, his good mood seemed to have continued. Catelyn guessed that the thought of finally getting to the bottom of the death of Margaery was the cause. It gave him something to focus on other than his grief which still persisted.

On a personal level Catelyn was interested to see Lord Tywin again. He had not even attempted to contact her since their departure from the capital, something that surprised and actually saddened her slightly. She had felt things when with Tywin Lannister that she had not felt in a very long time and she thought he did as well. She was intrigued whether their connection would remain or if it was now ended.

Yet something about all this did not feel right. Why did Tywin go to the Dreadfort and not to Winterfell? Unless he travelled by sea, the majority of roads to the Dreadfort pass by Winterfell. And why did he go to Roose Bolton, a man not know for any connections outside the North? The whole situation seemed to raise more questions than it answered.

As the entered a small wooded area, Catelyn rode forward to join Robb at the front of their party and speak her troubles. Ice glistened across his back, in contrast to the dark fur capes he had wrapped around his person. She pulled her mount alongside Robb.

"Mother, is everything well?"

"Yes it is son. But I am concerned about this."

Robb nodded solemnly "I know Mother and I have the same concerns no doubt. But I cannot pass up this chance to get some answers."

Catelyn quickly responded "Regardless of who or what awaits us at the Dreadfort, we must be cautious. As soon as we arrive, request bread and water to invoke guest rights."

Robb looked surprised "Mother, Houses Stark and Bolton may have been historical rivals but Lord Roose has been a loyal bannerman since the days of my father. We have never had cause to doubt his loyalty to our House. Don't forget it was Domeric who wrote to us, in his own hand, and he has been a brother to me all these years."

"Every House, great and small, honours guest right Lady Catelyn." Perwyn chipped in, "My father Lord Walder often told us the tale of the Rat Cook as a warning when we were infants as a warning to those who do not."

Catelyn knew she was fearing the worst but it was clear that Robb was more willing to take the risk just to seek the answers that he so desperately wanted. "That may be Robb but do it anyway. Do it for me, to ease my worries." She pleaded.

"If you insist mother." Robb relented, raising a small smile from Perwyn.

"Thank you son." She said in appreciation.

Robb smiled kindly at her. "Whatever we find there, we must ens-"

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU UUUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHH

The huge groan silenced Robb and caused everyone in their party to halt. They all watched as a large tree fell across the road in front of them. As it crashed to the floor Catelyn's horse reared up slightly but she calmed it with a reassuring touch of her hand. All the men began to draw their blades and search the surrounding woodlands with their eyes.

Suddenly a man emerged, stood on the fallen oak with a wicked smile across his face. He was very plain looking with long dark hair, although his pale cold eyes drew Catelyn's attention. Though close-set, they seemed to drain the life out of everything around them. Catelyn had seen an identical pair before.

"Greetings Lord Stark." The man announced in a sinister voice.

Catelyn went to whisper his name to Robb but he already knew who it was. "What is the meaning of this Ramsay Snow?" He responded angrily.

"Ramsay BOLTON!" He barked in response, briefly causing his eyes to flash in anger.

It did not deter Robb. "You are Lord Bolton's bastard, not his true born son. So I ask again Snow, what is the meaning of this?"

Ramsay's eyes narrowed, though that did not seem possible, and he glared at Robb. "Do not say that word again or you will regret it."

As Ramsay spoke, he was joined on the fallen trunk by a small wiry man wearing filthy rags. His hair was a mess, matted and encrusted with dirt, and his skin appeared to have not seen water in an age. He gazed up at Ramsay in reverence, just like a hound would at his master. Ramsay paid him no attention and remained focused on Robb.

Robb returned that glare, refusing to back down. Eventually he said "Does Domeric know you are here?"

Ramsay smiled "Yes he does. After all it was he who wrote you and invited you to the Dreadfort. But sadly you will not be reaching your destination. Lord Tywin will be sooooo disappointed!" He laughed mockingly.

Catelyn asked the question though she knew the answer "Domeric's message was false? Lord Tywin never came to the Dreadfort?"

"Correct."

"Why would Domeric lie?" Robb asked.

The sinister smile returned to Ramsay's face. "He did so at my request."

"Domeric would not betray me." Robb stated, though his voice was not as assured as previously.

"Oh he did not want to. But his resistance dropped with every part of his body that I flayed. Eventually I wrote it what I commanded, word for word." Ramsay said, causing a child-like giggle from his dischevaled companion.

"Oh Gods." Catelyn said aloud. Poor poor Domeric.

"Where is Domeric now?" Robb enquired.

"Once he had finished writing, I had no further use for him. I am the true heir of House Bolton and I took my rightful inheritance." Ramsay said before drawing his sword. Catelyn recognised Nightfall from its moonstone pommel.

"Reek." Ramsay commanded and his companion threw a severed head towards Robb. Catelyn did not need to look at it long to know it was Domeric.

"I used this very blade, the ancestral blade of my House, to remove his head." Ramsay boasted, clearly enjoying watching the reactions of everyone.

"You monster! You only have that sword because of Domeric's bravery." Robb shouted in fury.

"The kinslayer is damned by the old and new Gods." Jory stated.

"So fucking what." Ramsay replied without a care.

"Why would you do this?" Catelyn asked as she could feel herself start to shake. Fear was slowly starting to grip her, despite her best attempts to keep it at bay.

Ramsay raised his head proudly. "A raven from Kings Landing promised much reward for the heads of Robb and Catelyn Stark. I plan to claim these rewards."

Catelyn turned and looked at Robb, anticipating his response, but it was Perwyn who answered. "I've heard enough. If you think anyone here is going to let you take Robb or Lady Stark without a fight then you are dumber than you look bastard!"

Ramsay snarled at the last word then gestured to the trees beside the path. Almost instantly an arrow zipped through the air and embedded itself in Perwyn's head. Catelyn felt close to vomiting as Perwyn fell limply from his horse, dead before he even hit the floor.

"Kill everyone except Robb Stark. I want to use my sword to take his head" Ramsay announced at the top of his voice. Suddenly men appeared from the darkness between the trees, each one armed and ready to fight.

Catelyn remained stationary in shock as arrows flew through the air, dropping men all around her, whilst others jumped into plain sight to engage the Stark men in combat. She watched on helpless as Jory was cut down from behind. Robb was fighting hard, cutting down a fair haired boy before crossing blades with a short muscular brute, but he looked like he could be overwhelmed at any moment.

"STOP!" Catelyn screeched to no-one, tears now freely flowing down her face.

Ramsay turned to his companion. "Reek, bring me Lady Catelyn. I'm going to have some fun with her before I take her head. Bring me the whore now!"

The man did not need asking again. He swiftly jumped from the trunk and charged at Catelyn's horse. A knife was suddenly in his hand and he slashed at the mount, causing it to fully rear back and throw Catelyn backwards. Her head smacked off the dirt road and everything seemed to slow down.

A fog enveloped her head and it seemed to distort her vision. She rolled over to her side and watched as men fell around her. Blood splashed on the floor, like a dark stain marking this place of betrayal. The cries of pain and battle seemed distant to where she lay, as if none of it was real.

Savagely she was dragged around to face Reek who clambered over her. The man smelt foul. His mouth was moving like he was speaking to her but Catelyn could hear nothing. She tried to fight him but her arms would not respond with any strength. He licked her cheek, revolting Catelyn to her very core, before he started to drag her by her ankle towards his master.

She kicked out limply at Reek but it did not have an effect. She wanted to fight with all her heart but her legs felt like they were made of stone and she could feel herself starting to black out.

Catelyn always thought she would die in a warm bed, surrounded by her children and grandchildren. She never ever thought she would die on a dirt floor with only the corpses of loyal Northmen for company. That was of course assuming that Ramsay did not have some other horrors in store for her first.

As if by sorcery, Reek let go of her ankle and flew away from Catelyn. She managed to raise her head slightly and saw Reek lying on the ground facedown, impaled on a long spear.

Before she fully passed out she felt men rushing past her. The last thing she saw before it all went black was an ethereal knight wielding a brilliant white sword and a young Brandon, fierce grey eyes and black hair, striking down the Bolton bastard. She smiled as her eyes finally closed, glad that her only love came to save her. It didn't matter that it wasn't real.


	31. Chapter 31

Disclaimer – if you recognise it then it belongs to GRRM

Jon VIII

"If I truly am half wolf then why am I shivering so much whilst a Dornishman does not appear to feel any cold?"

Arthur smiled at Jon's question. "You grew up under the sun of Qarth so it is no wonder you have never felt cold like the North of Westeros. After you have slept by Shipbreaker Bay in the howling wind and rain with nothing but a cloak for shelter, you get used to dealing with feeling cold."

Jon wrapped the furs around himself and walked around their chambers. Although it was clear they were not chambers but a prison. You only had to open the door to see the sheer number of guards patrolling outside to know they were not regular guests. Jon had once made to leave but was told in no uncertain terms to remain in their room until summoned. This was the only room they had been permitted to see and they had stared at the same four walls now for three days since their arrival at Winterfell.

Their journey to the North had been gone with relative ease. They had left Starfall with only a small number of fifteen Dornish spearmen to act as guards. Jon knew that Daenerys would have gladly given more but there were few able men at Starfall as it was. A positive of their low numbers was that they were able to travel the narrow sea with speed, ably helped by the winds which seemed to favour them the entire trip. "A sign from the Seven." One of the older spearmen had stated. It was a nice thought and Jon had hoped it was true.

In order to avoid being apprehended at White Harbour, they had sailed up the Broken Branch as far as possible till they were forced to land. From here they had set off towards Winterfell to request an audience with Lord Robb Stark. It was only a chance encounter with Ser Kyle Condon that had alerted them that Robb Stark had spent the previous night at the pleasure of his House and now was en route to the Dreadfort. Ser Kyle had bravely ridden out to meet Jon's party, believing them to be bandits or thieves. Once he had listened to Jon and ascertained that they meant no malice he had led them on the correct path where they would meet Robb. It was moving down along this road that led them to the scene of betrayal by the Bolton Bastard.

They arrived just in time. Robb Stark had been dragged from his horse and was defenceless on his knees under the sword of Ramsay Snow until Jon sprang forward to engage him in combat. The fight did not last long as Ramsay had very little prowess and swung his blade wildly with no accuracy. Jon cut him down and run him through in a swift manner before aiding Ser Arthur and the guards in taking care of those remaining. When the fighting had ended only two spearmen had perished and there were only four Northmen left, including Robb and his mother, though Lady Catelyn had sustained a heavy blow to the head and was unconscious. Robb was thankfully unharmed aside from a few cuts and a probable broken rib.

They had immediately returned to the keep of House Condon where they waited for a day until the full garrison of Winterfell arrived, led by a relieved Ser Brynden Tully, to escort them back to their own castle. As soon as they entered Winterfell, Jon and Ser Arthur were taken to the chambers where they had remained till now. The Dornish spears were flatly refused entry to Winterfell and were instead told to wait at the tavern in Winter Town. Jon had been very unhappy with their treatment but Arthur actually understood the behaviour and encouraged Jon to wait patiently until they were called upon. "He had been nearly killed by the son of his own bannerman before being saved by a Northern looking stranger leading a band of Dornishmen including a knight not seen in Westeros for many years. He is entitled to be cautious." Arthur had explained, calming Jon's temper.

"Were you not worried that you would be executed straight away?" Jon had asked him. It was a worry that Jon had considered throughout their journey.

Arthur had wryly smiled "I was not worried about it but I knew it was a possibility. I gambled on the chance that the son was as noble as the father. Fortunately I was right."

Jon reflected on that memory as he moved closer to the fire, rubbing his hands together to try and fight away the cold. He wished the Rhaegal was here, and not just so his dragonfire could warm him. He missed the dragon, though he was glad that he still dreamt as him every night and their bond remained strong.

A knock at the door brought Jon out of his thoughts. A tall older man stepped into the room, Jon recognised him as Ser Brynden Tully.

"Firstly I want to apologise for your confinement since your arrival at Winterfell. Lord Stark was concerned about your sudden arrival, especially after everything that happened." Brynden said

"Nothing to forgive." Arthur said quickly.

"I also want to thank you for saving Lady Catelyn and Robb from certain death. You have my eternal thanks for your actions. Now you have been summoned by Lord Stark. He is holding court in the Great Hall and is ready to listen to what you have to say."

Brynden swiftly led them down the many stone hallways of the castle towards the Great Hall. Jon noted the high number of guards along their route. He guessed that they were still far from safe. Arthur did not seem concerned though, his face like stone.

Eventually they arrived and entered the Great Hall at the rear. The room was filled with seemingly all of Winterfell. Soldiers were spread all through the audience, fully armoured and clasping swords. Jon and Arthur remained unnoticed as all the attention was focused forward where Robb Stark sat on a platform. Jon watched from the back of the Great Hall as the Lord of Winterfell addressed a pale man, who stood solitary in front of the platform where he sat.

"My Lord." The man said emotionless.

"Lord Bolton. Thank you for coming so swiftly." Robb replied, "Now do you care to tell me why your bastard did what he did and why I shouldn't have you thrown in the castle dungeons right now?"

If Robb's words were meant to scare the Lord of the Dreadfort it did not work. The man did not even flinch, his face like a statue. "My bastard was of bad blood. I have long attempted to rectify the many flaws in his behaviour but it has been futile. My bastard did what he did because that is his nature. I had no idea of his actions towards you until I received your raven."

"Your treacherous bastard spoke of a raven from the Iron Throne, offering rewards for the deaths of me and my mother." Robb stated.

The crowd murmured at this news. Lord Bolton waited for them to quieten before he replied in his same low tone. "I have not seen such a raven my Lord. I assume my bastard decided to act upon it independently in order to claim the rewards mentioned for himself."

"What if you would have received such a raven?" Robb pressed.

"I would have brought it straight to you Lord Stark. As my liege lord, I am loyal to you." He replied instantly.

Robb raised his head, briefly looking to the ceiling whilst he thought, before he returned his gaze to Lord Bolton. "Though our houses have been enemies in the past, the loyalty of House Bolton under your Lordship has never ever been called into question. Hence I am inclined to believe you Lord Roose. However should other evidence emerge that suggest you had a part in your bastard's plot, I will personally ensure justice is dealt for all of those he murdered."

Lord Roose gave a slight nod to this before saying "Please remember Lord Stark that my true born son Domeric was one of the victims. Why would I ever condone a plot that would involve the death of my heir? All I have left of him now is Nightfall, which I thank you for retrieving from my bastard, my Lord."

As Robb motioned to an elderly man with long white whiskers, who in turn passed the Valyrian steel blade to Lord Bolton, Jon found himself staring at the head of House Bolton. The man was calm, measured and spoke softly, yet there was something truly threatening about him. Jon got a sense of malice and cold calculated viciousness from the man, although he was not sure exactly why that was. Even though the argument presented by Lord Roose regarding his lack of involvement was entirely logical and believable, Jon couldn't shake the feeling that it was a blatant lie.

After Lord Roose sheathed the sword, he took his leave and slipped back into the audience. "It is your turn now." Ser Brynden whispered to them.

Ser Arthur led the way, guiding Jon through the crowd. Jon realised as he walked that he had not yet actually spoken to Robb Stark. Jon had wanted to speak to him whilst they returned to Winterfell but, seeing how he was obviously concerned about his mother who remained unwell, he left him be. However when they were immediately directed to their chambers upon their arrival at the castle, Jon attempted to speak to him across the courtyard only to be ignored. Currently Robb remained sat atop the dais, arms firmly folded as he surveyed them approaching. An elderly maester stood to his left whilst a man with similar features to Jon was on his right.

Jon and Arthur both stood in the clearing and faced the young Lord of Winterfell. After what seemed an age Robb spoke. "Firstly I want to convey my thanks for your actions. You saved my life and my mother's. When she is well enough to leave her chambers I am sure she will give her thanks in person."

Jon mirrored Arthur and said nothing.

Robb carried on, facing Arthur. "My great uncle Ser Brynden has already confirmed to me who you are. Ser Arthur Dayne, the legendary Sword of the Morning. A member of the Mad King's Kingsguard… and the man who killed my father."

Jon felt the tension immediately grow within the room. The crowd seemed to hiss and growl behind them. Arthur however remained still, unmovable.

"Westeros has long believed you dead Ser. Had you not come to our aid against Ramsey Snow, I would have made that a fact." Robb said firmly before turning to Jon, "I do not know who you are, please tell us."

Jon spoke clearly "I am Jon Sand, the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark."

"Impossible!" The man to Robb's right shouted. He moved forward pointing his finger at Jon. "Watch your tongue boy. Speak lies about my sister again and th-"

Arthur interrupted, firmly but composed "Jon is telling the truth Benjen Stark. Do not doubt his word."

Arthur then proceeded to tell the whole tale. He spoke of the forbidden love between Rhaegar and Lyanna, Jon's birth and Eddard's death at the Tower of Joy, their life in Qarth, the meeting with Daenerys, the dragons (something which drew loud gasps from the maester and the audience), Ser Barristan, Starfall, everything.

Robb listened to it all in stoic silence whilst Benjen appeared a mixture of crestfallen and shocked. "This…it cannot be." Benjen mumbled once Arthur had finished. Jon felt for man – his uncle – as he clearly had no idea that his sister went willingly with the Dragon Prince.

Robb spoke up "Ser Brynden, what do you make of this tale? Can we trust the word of this man?"

Jon had not noticed that the Blackfish had moved forward and was only stood a few steps behind them now. "Lord Robb, Ser Arthur Dayne was known throughout Westeros as a true knight and a man of honour. Even his enemies, including you father, had nothing but respect for the Sword of the Morning. I do not doubt his word."

"My sist….Lyanna was always so wilful." Benjen said softly. Jon could see tears in his eyes.

"His appearance is that of a Stark." The maester added.

Robb thought on all he heard before speaking "Now you ask the North to ally with the daughter of the Mad King, the same King who burned my Grandfather and Uncle to death."

"Yes." Jon spoke plainly. Unfortunately he could not think of what to say next, he felt overwhelmed.

Luckily Arthur did. "Daenerys is not her Father's daughter. She is kind, well balanced and will be a noble queen. She has none of King Aery's madness."

Robb looked surprised "I was expecting you to deny that Aerys was indeed a madman."

"Why would I deny what was plainly true." Arthur answered.

"Then why did you serve him?" Robb asked, his voice rising slightly but noticeably to Jon.

"I made a vow and, for better or worse, I honour my vows. That is something I have adhered to all my life, even if it pains me to do so." Arthur paused briefly. "I vowed to Rhaegar that I would defend Lyanna and die before handing over her or her son to any of the Usurper's men. That is the reason why your father died. I took no pleasure from his death but I made a vow."

Robb stared solemnly at the Sword of the Morning, his hands clasped together in front of his mouth. Jon could not tell what effect Arthur's words were having on him and whether they were any closer to bringing the North to their side. The silence became deafening.

Jon could not take it anymore. "When your father raised the North in rebellion it was to dispose a tyrant who sat on the throne. From what I have heard the current King is fast becoming another Aerys, aided by his mother, the Kingslayer and all those snakes in the Small Council advising him. After all look at how they tried to kill you and your mother – are they the actions of a worthy ruler and Small Council?"

Robb's face suggested he agreed with what he heard. He looked interested in Jon's words so he continued. "Now I ask you to raise your banners, just as your father once did, and help dispose of this new Mad King and all those who support him so in his place the rightful Queen can sit atop the Iron Throne."

"And if I don't, then what? Will be bring your dragons up here and burn us into submission?" Robb asked.

The question took Jon aback and he answered honestly. "No. I have little family left and I have no desire to kill any more. If you do not wish to join us then all I ask is you let myself, Ser Arthur and our men leave here unharmed. When we have put Queen Daenerys on the Iron Throne I would invite you to come meet her and, after such a meeting, I'm confident you would be happy to swear fealty to her."

Robb too spoke honestly "Family….I suppose you are Jon Sand. But you ask for much. The path you want to lead us down is filled with death."

"If you believe that the other path is not filled with death then you are mistaken Lord Stark. The Iron Throne has already tried to kill you two times, instead killing your betrothed at Kings Landing and your men on the road to the Dreadfort. I'm certain they will try again. King Joffrey will bring war to the North eventually unless we take it to him first."

Robb took in Jon's bold answer and briefly whispered something to his uncle Benjen. In the silence Jon took a sideward glance at Arthur, who gave him a slight nod. Jon interpreted it as pride.

Robb Stark stood up from his seat and spoke for all to hear. "Jon Sand, the North will rise and support Daenerys Targaryen in her claim to the Throne. But there are some conditions, none of which are negotiable. Firstly I will lead the Northern forces but you and Ser Arthur will fight alongside us, with your Dornish spears as your guard."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." Jon answered confidently.

"Secondly I want claim justice for Lady Margaery and I intend to carry out the sentence personally."

Jon nodded.

Robb turned to Ser Arthur "Lastly once we have placed Daenerys Targaryen on the Iron Throne, I demand justice for my father. Ser Arthur, you and I will duel one on one with no repercussions for the victor. I will avenge his death for my mother and myself."

Arthur's face gave nothing away. "The last time Ice and Dawn met, it was Dawn who prevailed." He stated.

"That will not be the case next time." Robb replied sternly. "I want you to swear a vow to me Ser, as you once swore to Prince Rhaegar, that you will stand and fight me once Daenerys is Queen."

"On my honour and title as Sword of the Morning, I swear such a vow." Arthur said with hints of regret tinting his voice.

Robb accepted this. "Maester Luwin, send the ravens."


End file.
